In the Rough
by Flours
Summary: Slow Updates: He remembered speaking of precious people to his student in another time. "Unfortunately, for me no such person exists. Those people have already been killed," he had stated. But somewhere far off, Hosokawa Nahoko sneezed. Kakashi/OC, Canon-ish. M for later chapters.
1. Lepidolite

**So I've had this idea floating around my head for awhile, and I even started a story with it on another account, but it wasn't going the direction I wanted. So here's my retry! Please read and review, and thanks for giving it a try! I'd love to hear what you guys think! Most of the chapters I have planned will have our stars as adults, I don't believe I'll have AU but I don't think I'll follow canon exactly, still deciding though! Just a few chapters will be as kids, to get the ball rolling, of course.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **I: Lepidolite**

1\. Is a varety of mica

2\. Stone of transformation in that it helps one get through transitions with trust that everything will ultimately turn out for the best.

Keywords: Calming, Balance

* * *

He noticed the little girl with black, thick-rimmed glasses at six years old.

They covered more than half her face at the time; Kakashi wondered if she was asking to be bullied wearing those things.

He first saw her clapping her hands together mindlessly with another classmate, chanting meaningless words with a large grin on that cloudless day. Useless, he remembered thinking, to utilize their break with such inane activities not related to the shinobi world one bit. How would a woman of fiction called Mrs. Mack aid in the teachings of technical skills; how would it keep them alive?

Kakashi paused then, his wrist poised to throw another kunai into the worn post, furrowing his brow.

Why did he _care_?

A shrill whistle echoed through the children's space, signifying break was over. He watched the kids trudge their way back into the Academy from the courtyard with an unfathomable coolness, black eyes slightly narrowed on the deep-chestnut color adorning the glasses-girl's head. Her hair was an unruly, curly mess bouncing as she walked beside the girl with purple marks on her cheeks, speaking animatedly and gesturing with her arms wildly.

Nohara Rin laughed softly at something the girl said, causing her mouth to stretch almost too wide and touch the brim of her spectacles. Hatake Kakashi did not even notice the full-on glare he was emitting as he observed her pat the Nohara girl's back excitedly with one blow.

He did not know her name.

At age six, the prodigy made a point to know everyone in his class- their strengths, their weaknesses, and least of all, their names. So why, he thought as he stepped quietly, did he not know this senseless dork's name?

* * *

She seemed average.

That was why six-year old Hatake Kakashi felt so much frustration on that sunny Wednesday afternoon.

He could not answer why he kept a steady eye on her ever since his revelation of ignorance. She raised her arm once in class to answer Sensei's question- chosen, spoke with relative intelligence, then sat back down scrunching her nose in humor when a classmate teased her.

She wasn't extraordinary.

The silver-haired boy sat in the row diagonal from her, catching her profile in the corner of her eye. She talked with her seatmates in hushed whispers sometimes, paid attention other times- the only thing Kakashi could possibly note was that she cracked her knuckles and joints a little too often.

It wasn't until he was called upon to answer a question about the velocity vs. displacement of a shuriken toss- honestly Sensei probably wanted to choose a student who would definitely answer sensibly- that he caught site of her completely. He answered the question easily, smoothly, but found that when people turned back to their devices to get through the lesson, her eyes lingered for a moment longer.

From the distance, Kakashi noted she had large, blue eyes beneath those ridiculous glasses. They reminded him of when he stood on the lake for one of the first times; it was when the first snow of the season cloaked Konoha in a still grace, and he looked down into the dark waters and couldn't make out any shapes.

He made a small 'tch' sound low in his throat, averting his gaze a little too quickly to escape those bottomless eyes. Since when did he start comparing some silly girl's eyes to depths that he could not grasp? Speculating about this insignificant girl would not bring him any closer to being an accomplished shinobi.

Her eyes did not matter.

And her hair was stupid.

* * *

The next day it rained.

Upon entering the classroom, he noticed his classmates were not in their usual seats. Everyone eventually developed a routine, and details were not something Kakashi frequently overlooked.

"Maaaan! Senesi had to go and switch us all around! And who sits us in alphabetical order still!"

Uchiha Obito's irritating whine floated through the room, causing Kakashi to roll his eyes as he took his seat.

"I can't sit by Rin-chan anymore!"

"Maybe it will get you to pay attention more, Obito-kun."

Doubtful, Kakashi thought flatly, as he turned his attention from the two, granting them enough for the day. Students continued to slowly file in, tracking in mud and trailing water to their seats. Kakashi had been prepared though, and had calmly made it to the academy, not a drop on him. Obito was too foolish to check the weather before stepping out, no doubt.

"Naho-chan! How did you make it without a drop on you!"

Blinking, the silver-haired boy snuck his gaze back towards his loud classmate. Immediately did he notice the little girl with absurdly large glasses compress her lips to suppress her laughter, adjusting her glasses with nimble fingers.

When did she get there?

No matter. Her name was Naho, then.

She stood beside the Nohara girl at Obito's desk, clasping her hands behind her back so she could tap her fingers together quickly.

A habit, perhaps?

"Some people check outside before taking off!"

Rin scolded Obito with a concerned look, her brown hair falling slightly as she leaned over his desk to jab her finger playfully in his shoulder. He immediately scowled, red blotching his cheeks not so subtly. The Naho girl took this time to laugh, a sound Kakashi found wasn't all together annoying, not like Obito. She pivoted on her heel after making a quiet remark, causing Obito to shout indignantly and Rin to join the laughter as well.

Kakashi glanced away- to feign indifference or in actual disinterest, he could not quite tell.

He did not want her to notice his observation,though.

She approached him casually, and as she took her seat beside him she proffered him a quick smile and tucked a large curl behind her ear, "Hi, so you're my new seatmate, Hatake-kun? I'm Hosokawa Nahoko, but you can call me Naho."

With those glasses, Kakashi noticed her focus was not so unnerving. Her body language indicated she was open to conversation, although she did tap her fingers on their conjoined table once she placed her hand down. Kakashi merely inclined his head before turning his attention up front, where Sensei had just announced roll call.

Her name sounded familiar.

 _Hosokawa…_

"Hatake Kakashi."

"Present, Sensei."

"Hosokawa Nahoko."

"Present!" She seemed nervous to speak in front of the class this time, though when answering questions previously she seemed to have a grasp on her ticks. Hadn't they already been in the same class for half a year? Why was she so inconsistent?

"Ah Hosokawa, if you could stay a bit after today's lesson. We have something to discuss."

Kakashi watched the curls on her head bob slightly when she nodded her head, bringing a hand to the back of her neck in an abashed sort of way. He saw red creep up from the collar of her shirt.

"Y-Yes, Sensei!"

And right as she spluttered a quick response, Kakashi remembered where he had heard that name.

* * *

"Nee, Otou-san, what do you know about the Hosokawa clan?"

"Hm? The Hosokawa? Why are you asking about them, Kakashi?"

"One is in my class."

Kakashi remembered the peculiar look that dawned on his father's face then, something six-year old Hatake Kakashi could not quite identify. Looking back, he would recognize that look as a number of things- Wariness, dread, and a paradoxical gleam of hope.

"Oh? What's their name?"

"Hosokawa Nahoko. She's… okay. Her hair is too curly, though. And she fidgets."

He remembered how his father barked a laugh before placing a hand on his shoulder, a comforting sort of presence enveloping him.

"Saa, Kakashi, listen to me."

His voice was warm, yet there was an underlying seriousness that revealed his tone. Immediately attentive, Kakashi blinked. His father squeezed his shoulder for a second before lifting his hand.

"The Hosokawa are a mixed bag. They are a very powerful clan, in many sorts, less in other ways. Keep an eye on Nahoko-chan."

The silver-haired boy remembered a feeling of confusion, like he didn't totally grasp the meaning of his father's words.

"Is she a threat?"

Miscomprehension.

"Ah? No, I would not say that. I mean to say… do not discount people so easily. Loyalty, too, is a powerful tool, just as these tantō or your kunai."

"Haa?"

Not so far in the future, his father would give even his life to prove those words.

* * *

She brought sweets every day.

"Your teeth will rot out of your head."

"You don't mean that, Kakashi-kun!"

He could smell her before he even saw her. He had been relaxing beneath the shade of the tree in the courtyard while his fellow students played a game of tag, when she had approached with a stick of dango in hand.

When had she the time to retrieve such a treat?

"I'm serious, _boke."_

His eyes were closed, but he heard her make a neutral sound before plopping down beside him.

He cracked a lid, watching as she devoured the sickly sweet mess before sticking her hand in the bag, producing another-

"Want some?"

"No."

"Really? Because I have enough. I think it's probably better if you take one, actually. I might- aww man!"

Her sudden exclamation had Kakashi's attention, his dull black eye lingering on the treat now sticking to her unruly fringe.

"I told you it would be better if you took one, Kakashi-kun!"

"…Moron."

His father had told him to keep _this one_ close?

"Oi! That's mean!"

* * *

She was quiet that Tuesday.

Usually she would talk to someone, not necessarily him, but someone who would at least hold steady conversation. It was always about what to do the next weekend- specifically, where she could acquire a better sugary treat than the last. He remembered her speaking with the Nohara girl about a teahouse on the far side of town with the 'absolute best' pecan pastries and if they didn't visit that particular afternoon then their souls would 'wither' and 'die.'

Kakashi thought that was a bit dramatic.

But today, the curly haired brunette wasn't much one for words, which caused the silver-haired boy the glance her way more than once throughout the lesson. She pushed her large glasses up slightly as she scrawled barely-legible notes, something he noticed she didn't do often.

Had her grades slipped, the clan mentioned something troubling?

The Hosokawa weren't very prominent in Konoha, his father stating that their main residence lay elsewhere in the Land of Fire. Their reach, however, extended well beyond their country's borders. Maybe they had contacted her family? Disappointment, perhaps?

 _"The Hosokawa are a mixed bag."_ He recalled his father saying that not for the first time, causing the prodigy's brows to furrow.

What did he mean by that-?

Kakashi caught the triangular paper which had a trajectory for his forehead, scowling slightly at how the girl _almost_ caught him unawares. She kept her gaze forward, but he noted the curl of her lips from her profile, outwardly expressing her amusement.

 _Hmph._

Unfolding the triangle, the silver-haired youth noticed there was small, scrawled writing.

Huh. Passing notes seemed juvenile to him, even if he was six.

 _'My dad went on a mission with your dad.'_

Immediately did the words register in Kakashi's mind, causing him to furrow his brows for the second time in a span of minutes. He opened his mouth from beneath his mask before pausing, gathering himself and narrowing his eyes in thought.

Why had she bothered to tell him this? Was this why she was quiet? Why would this information bother him? His eyes found her profile again-

She was looking down as she cleaned her glasses with a cloth, and Kakashi noted her face seemed to be relatively normal when not engulfed by those large rims.

"Until tomorrow, then!"

They were being released.

Hatake Kakashi stood, his eye keenly glancing at Nahoko once more before gathering his supplies and turning. What should have that information meant to him, he wondered. What was her purpose?

"Kakashi-kun."

Glancing at her from over his shoulder, he quirked his brow at the blue-eyed little monster of a desk-mate. For a moment, he was again reminded of the murky waters beneath his feet as he tested his chakra control, confident that the water would not engulf him.

"See you tomorrow."

He wondered, though, about that nebulous gaze.

* * *

He did not care to go out of his way to see anybody outside of the Academy.

When he was not in school, he was training, namely with his father, or researching better techniques and how to implement them. Today was one of those overcast days where his father would supervise, though it turned out not for long. It was around dusk when Kakashi registered another presence in the small clearing of wood in which he occupied.

Halting his actions once the sequence was complete, he turned his black gaze on the small figure now standing beside his father at the edge of the clearing. Her curly hair was pulled back into a neat braid, and she wore fresh clan trousers and tunic; clothes that hinted at money.

Her hands- covered in scrapes and scuffs- were grasping a handful purple hyacinths, bound with a sloppy white string.

Frowning beneath his mask in confusion, Kakashi stepped towards his father and classmate. He couldn't make out the words she had said, but heard his father speak warmly and place a gentle hand on her head.

"Nahoko."

The brunette blinked as her eyes turned to find the silver-haired boy, scrunching her face with good humor as a greeting.

"I never want to spar you, Kakashi-kun. You're scary."

"What are you doing here?" He ignored pleasantries, manners thrown aside as he scrutinized the bespectacled girl. It wasn't just her hands that were scuffed, but her cheek and brow had scrapes that seemed foreign on her skin.

"Oh, I wanted to thank Hatake-san and apologize about Pa."

"Eh?"

Kakashi heard his father sigh before chuckling at the Hosokawa girl.

"You don't need to apologize, Nahoko-chan."

Here she whipped her gaze from Kakashi, gazing up at the older Hatake.

Frowning, "But I do! Pa's a good medic, but he's awful to be around! He's so strict and serious!"

Hatake Sakumo blanched.

Kakashi, however, accustomed to this unfiltered youth, snorted in half amusement, half derisiveness.

"You go around saying that stuff about your dad?"

"It's true!"

"I don't think Hosokawa-san would like this, Nahoko-chan…"

Kakashi watched Nahoko frown again, though it was a deep sort of frown that creased her mouth a little too much. He did not know Nahoko well, but the way she sunk into herself caused something deep in his chest to sting.

 _Too much._

"Oi, Naho. Let's spar."

"Eh!?"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

"Fine! But I'll put your face in the dirt!"

Then she tripped.

"OI! THAT'S DIRTY KAKASHI!"

Hatake Sakumo watched as the girl exploded, completely forgetting her earlier dismay as she collected and threw herself at his son.

It was true; working with Hosokawa Sosekin was trying at times. He was a very stern man set in his ways, sometimes uncooperative if he deemed things or people lesser than him. Thankfully Sakumo was flexible and could work around the man's stubbornness, but Sosekin had not left Sakumo with a great impression years ago.

Things had not changed much.

The Hosokawa were a mixed bag, indeed, he mused, as he watched his son hide a slight smile behind his mask.

Sosekin's daughter had brought him flowers signifying an apology, and not on her part. It wasn't until hours later, when the two had exhausted themselves, that Nahoko sped home before they could send her off and Sakumo smiled gently at her retreating figure.

"Keep up with her, Kakashi."

But Kakashi only scoffed at his father's words, not understanding why _he_ should keep up with _her_ when _he_ had beaten _her_ multiple times.

He did not grasp at the time that his father did not mean competitively.

* * *

She was seven when her mum addressed her academy grades.

"Are you not interested in your studies, Naho?"

Uzumaki Shoken was a hardworking medic that specialized in pediatrics at Konoha Gen. She hailed from the all but diminished Uzumaki clan from Uzushiogakure, adorned with their signature, striking red hair and wide blue eyes. Naho liked her mum's hair, often reminded of the cherries ripe for the picking on hot summer days. She noticed that her father, too, adored her mum's hair, sometimes catching him admiring it with uncharacteristically soft features.

That's how she knew he wasn't all sour.

He loved her mum and her.

"Mm, they're okay, I guess."

Honestly, perfecting kunai by throwing it continuously at the same unmoving block did bore her, as did talks about strategy and 'what ifs.'

Plucking a grape from its vine, Naho savored the flavor of the sweet fruit, pursing her lips in a way that made her mother chuckle.

"What is your favorite part, peanut?"

Uzumaki Shoken watched her daughter's expression immediately brighten as she pointed a finger to the sky, as if she had a brilliant revelation. "I really like talking to my classmates."

Shoken imagined if possible, there was a sweatdrop on the back of her hair.

Rubbing it almost self-consciously, she conceded to her daughter. "That's good, honey. But what about the curriculum? Is there anything you like?"

Despite her grades, Naho was a sharp girl.

She turned her back on her mum to meander through the Hosokawa gardens, a thoughtful expression coating her small face.

She understood that by asking these questions, her mother was inadvertently testing her commitment to a ninja education and eventual lifestyle. Hosokawa Nahoko was not interested in hypotheticals and probable situations, but what was certain and true.

She deduced that this was a pivotal moment in her life, at age seven.

Running a hand through her braid, Naho spoke up with a calm that she knew was required of this conversation, though not as serious as she could be. She did not want her mum to know that she had a keen sense of deductive reasoning- not yet, anyways.

"I like the practical things we learn, like the survival part stuff. I set the fastest fire without using any jutsu!"

She heard her mother give a soft chuckle of admiration, followed by her footsteps. She was a couple feet away from her, tending to her flowers that, to Naho's delight, were in full bloom.

"That's good, peanut. Your father will be proud."

Naho's expression faltered, souring slightly. "Pa wouldn't be proud over something like that."

"Don't be ridiculous, Naho. Your father is very proud of you for joining the Academy."

The way her mum phrased it did not escape the small brunette, though her mum probably didn't even notice. Pa may have been lighter than usual once Nahoko joined the Academy, but that airiness did not last long. Naho understood her father better than others did, knew that he loved both her and her mum, but also understood he was not a very forthright or expressive man.

Shoken took her daughter's silence as victory, pushing the soil down with her flat palms. She glanced at her daughter's back, crouching in the grass by the hydrangea circle.

"How about you come with me to the Uchiha compound tomorrow, Naho? I have a few checkups to do and I'd like an extra set of hands."

"Eh, is that really okay?"

The smile Naho received was blinding.

"Of course, peanut."

* * *

"Uwah! It's Naho-chan!"

The seven year-old kunoichi-in-training wore her hair in a neat fishtail braid, her wide-rimmed glasses falling slightly as she quickly looked up from her mum's pack. Instantly, her mouth widened, "Obito-kun!"

It was a routine that quickly formed on the weekends when Nahoko accompanied her mother to the Uchiha compound. Naho and Obito were both generally friendly people with excitable personalities, so upon realizing they could easily meet up in the compound, both jumped at the opportunity. They had become friends during their year at the Academy, along with Nohara Rin and a very reluctant Hatake Kakashi- on Naho's part that was.

"You're late! And you left that good-for-nothing behind this time!"

Obito had a ways to go…

"Aa, Kakashi-kun was busy today."

She liked Obito because he had energy unlike anyone she had ever met; he may have been fallible, but he did not stay down for long.

She took in his labored breathing as he finished approaching her, sweat on his brow and eyes squinting slightly from behind his goggles. He was flushed, attempting to cover his mouth with his sleeve, as if he were wiping something on it.

She frowned, and her seven year-old brain even registered that something was slightly off.

"Tired?" Her high voice rang, not mocking as laced with concern.

He shook his head and uttered something about never falling or failing-

Nahoko wasn't quite sure because in that moment she tuned him out, spotting her mum.

"Oka-san! I found a patient!"

"Oi!"

It had to be an hour later when they had finally settled Obito back into his apartment with porridge, wet clothes and medicinal herbs lining his counter.

"Rest up, Obito-kun! I will send Naho to check on you later."

A sneeze, then, "Thanks, Shoken-oba-chan!"

The door closed, and Shoken turned to her daughter who had patiently waited with her pack. She hummed thoughtfully at her child, placing her hand on her head with a small pat.

"That was impressive, Naho. You noticed a fever without using conventional methods to check."

She watched red creep up her daughter's neck, but not before she caught the flash of hesitance in her face.

"Obito-kun is an open book."

Nahoko did not mention that as she looked at Obito, something relatively new was developing.

As she continued to go on these check-ups with her mother, she started paying more attention to people and their mannerisms. Her mum said that mannerisms were important regarding health, so keep in mind their physical as well as emotional tell-alls. Naho knew about chakra of course, but was not advanced in her studies to mold it very well.

But somewhere along the line of trailing behind her mother, she started to notice others' chakra and the molding of it. She could feel chakra in a way that she never had, and started closely observing it in those familiar to her.

"He just… felt different."

Shoken smiled at that, noticing that her daughter did not like to harp on her positive qualities. She probably did not know that observing chakra levels and fluctuations was not common until at least ten or eleven years old.

"Let's go to the hospital tomorrow, peanut."

Naho smiled, "Mm!"

Despite appearances, she was not completely oblivious to the fact that this was yet another pivotal test.

* * *

Hatake Kakashi realized Hosokawa Nahoko was not a complete airhead the day of his Otou-san's memorial service.

The sky did not open up that day but it was not cloudless; there was a chill in the air and the sun only occasionally revealed itself.

He had found Hatake Sakumo after he had ended his own life, disgraced they said. Kakashi did not say much, and although there were whispers of dishonor and contempt, many attended the service. Officially, he was first and foremost remembered as Konoha's White Fang.

He saw too much that day.

He was consumed with a bitter sadness, and his surroundings seemed to crisp. He saw each face in a haze of clarity and realized his idolization for his Otou-san was rapidly fading into red. A simmering anger was replacing any positive feeling-

Those large, square-rimmed glasses with their ridiculous frame and size caught his eye.

She was standing a bit to his side, her hands clasped in front of her with her fingers tapping against each other as a woman behind her placed a hand on her shoulder gently before stepping away. She seemed to heave a breath once the woman left- her mother- and she decidedly fixed her gaze on him.

Of all the things, he did not expect to be so angry when he looked at those glasses that all but swallowed her face.

Did she not realize they were so dorky? She looked completely fine without them, why couldn't she just get a normal pair like everyone else-

He was glaring at her, he realized. But that wasn't what surprised him. The look at which she leveled him, depthless eyes steadying him as a chilly breeze swept by. Her too wide mouth was flat, though not unfriendly, and her hair- stupid hair- was pulled back neatly into a regal bun. She did not look calm, but she did not look as her normal energetic self.

 _She_ surprised him.

She was not going to bug him with sweets today, he realized.

Of all the things he wanted to hear-

"Pa is a liar."

That certainly was not something he expected.

She had approached him to stand before the memorial stone, and although she had kept contact for quite some time, she finally turned her gaze to the stone. He watched as her eyes narrowed until they were squeezed shut, as moisture gathered at the corners and she kneeled in the grass despite her expensive, black clothes.

Her mouth was compressed into a tight line as she bowed her head- why should _she_ bow her head?

"Pa lied." Her voice broke and Kakashi only stared with a blank gaze.

Her hand fisted in the grass and with this new clarity, the silver-haired youth realized that the girl was expressing anger.

She was angry, just as he.

He opened his mouth from beneath his mask- what do you have to be angry about, he wanted to scream- but words caught in his throat and only a strangled sort of noise came through. He stood there for a long time with her in the grass before he realized it was getting too cold, and he had half a heart to tap her shoulder, something, before he left.

But then she stood, and he remembered that day she brought him back from wherever his mind was reeling off to with a sharp nod and red-rimmed eyes.

She wiped them from beneath her stupid glasses and uttered words of finality.

"We'll be better."

 _Better than them._

And he watched her dust herself off with two firm shakes, waiting for her to offer empty words of condolences and sympathies. Upon receiving a stretched yet comfortable silence, Kakashi realized that Hosokawa Nahoko was anything but thoughtless.

 _"Abandoning the mission for the sake of a few… a foolhardy and dishonorable man! No matter the cost! Unthinkable."_

She would be better.

 _"Nahoko, do not ever abandon the good of the village for a sake of the few. It is the right thing. It is just."_

She would be just.

* * *

Thanks for reading!


	2. Azurite

**Thanks for reviewing, guys! Towards the end of the chapter, a lot will not make sense probably, due to the plot just now beginning. Bear with me, all will be explained!**

* * *

 **II. Azurite**

1\. Copper mineral produced by weathering of copper ore deposits

2\. Nourishes a keen interest in life, one's function in society, and discovering new commonalities and links within our world

Keywords: Energy flow

* * *

"Magnificent, Nahoko-chan! You have improved your speed tremendously! At this rate you are the blooming lotus of Konoha!"  
"Again, please, Gai-kun."

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing when she grazed her split lip. Her cheeks flushed in frustration when she heard the taijutsu-fanatic's words, her deep eyes narrowing in thought.

Blooming, huh.

Straightening from her crouch, Hosokawa Nahoko pulled at the bindings on her wrists and flattened her mouth into a flat line. Blooming wasn't enough for the Hosokawa clan.

"Yes, Nahoko-chan!"

Blooming wasn't enough to reach Hatake Kakashi. She observed as Maito Gai readied his stance, noting his posture lied near perfection. His center of gravity was low, knees slightly bent- a position ready for collision, known for sturdiness and balance. Her eyes quickly cut as he pushed off the ground with senseless force-

His left foot first, his right off balance slightly, quickly he was approaching-

 _Thwack!_

She blocked his arm with hers at a perfect angle- what should she look for, what was open-

 _"Oof!"_  
"Gah!"

Simultaneous exclamations escaped their lips as both shinobi-in-training landed in respective, unceremonious positions in the dirt. Nahoko groaned as she landed a few meters from their position, having taken a heel to the gut. She struggled to catch her breath as she lie on her back, contrived puffs escaping her lips and a grueling ache in her torso telling her to just lie still.

The chocolate-haired girl could hear her sparring partner rise with a groan of his own, "Naho-chan! That was a great defensive maneuver!"

She raised her hand in acknowledgement from the ground, breathing heavily as her expression fell flat despite her classmate's praise. She had swept her leg beneath his to interrupt his next combo, but she hadn't been quick enough- he had gotten a good hit on her before he fell flat on his back. And his recovery was swift, already standing above the smaller girl.

She put her hand in his as he pulled her up, exhaling a heavy breath as she brushed herself off from dirt and debris.

"Thanks, Gai-kun." Nine year-old Nahoko proffered a small smile before glancing to the tree-line, eyes sharp as glass.

There was someone in the trees to the North. She could not ranger a guess, but did not feel any killing intent- they were in the depths of Konoha. She doubted it was a malevolent force.

"Again."  
"Saa, Nahoko-chan…"

She frowned slightly as she tossed a look over her shoulder at her classmate, raising a brow at his hesitant gaze. Nahoko had met Maito Gai sometime in the previous year during one of his and Obito's spats in class, soon learning that he was fundamentally a taijutsu user. She remembered that day very well; she befriended her first classmate with ulterior motives. It was not to say that she disliked Gai-kun, but she recognized that she could very well use him.

"What is it, Gai-kun?"

He scratched the back of his head nervously, "Graduation is soon."  
"Mm."  
"Saa, you look pretty…"  
"Hm?"  
"I… I bruised a beautiful maiden's face! Please forgive me, Nahoko-chan!"

Nahoko blinked before she brought her hand to her cheek, feeling a few scuffs as she ran her palm over her skin.

Oh.

She hadn't realized she voice this aloud, causing Gai to fall to his knees in a pleading sort of manner.

"Nahoko-chan!"

One thing she quickly learned was that although her classmate enjoyed sparring and pushing himself to the limit, he became very remorseful when a product of their long sessions appeared- most of the time, minor yet inconvenient injuries such as these. This was not the first time she attempted to appease the eccentric boy. But as she patted his back in a forgiving manner, her eyes slid to the tree line again.

Whoever it was had not left, telling her that they were probably waiting on these not-yet genin to clear the area for further use.

"Mm come on, Gai-kun. Let's get some mochi ice cream. Oka-san said I could on the way home."  
"No way!"  
"Aa. Let's go again tomorrow."  
"Yosh!"

* * *

"You're distressed, Kakashi-kun."

She was better than that bushy-eyed loser. So why, Kakashi pondered with a furrowed brow, did she sport a speckled black-eye?

It was a Friday, one that genin Kakashi ditched his current teammates for. He hadn't any plans, though the older kids seemed to dislike him due to envy for his skill. No matter. Nahoko had found him.

"You're making things up, Hosokawa."  
"Mm, no."

The corner of her eye was bruised, and Kakashi caught her scuffed knuckles before she hastily folded her hands behind her back. Normally her dark trousers and clan shirt could be caught in pristine condition, but today he noted the wear and tear. Even the burgundy Uzumaki symbol sported a hole through the center. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, watching her walk with him through the busy marketplace with her face scrunch in good humor.

The corner of her lip was split.

"There it is again."

He blinked, mouth curling downwards beneath his mask as she fixed her bespectacled gaze onto him with a look.

"What?"  
"Your chakra… mm, took a spike, I guess?"  
"Tch. You _are_ making things up."

When did this runt get so observant? He watched as she shrugged halfheartedly before her eyes trailed to a stall up ahead.

Ah. The way those blue orbs lit up only meant one thing.

"Saa, steamed buns!"  
"Disgusting."  
"Mm, you can pay since you lied."

Honestly.

"No."

* * *

She was ten when she learned more than just the _concept_ of chakra control.

It was that night in May, she remembered. Oka-san and Pa were fighting.

"She is a Hosokawa, Shoken!"

She had crawled out of bed for some water. She had sweat through her sheets.

"She is our _daughter_!"

It was hot.

Pa and Oka-san had very distinct auras, or chakra signatures as she came to learn. Oka-san reminded her of the sweet smells of the garden, airy and light and warm with the sun. She had a sort of refreshing, invigorating presence that always put Naho at ease, similar to the Bradford pears in the springtime.

Pa had a more subtle feel, as if he were the quiet rumblings of thunder during a hot summer's night. Constant, unwavering, strong. Right before the storm.

She remembered hearing Pa and Oka-san speaking in vehement not-so whispers, so she knew not to step around the corner and interrupt.

"I have done what I can, Shoken. The clan…"

She couldn't catch everything just around the corner, but Naho could gather that they were speaking of her.

"…excelling slower… they expect this of my daughter… our daughter."  
"She is sharp… medic…"

Ah.

Quietly, Nahoko crept back into the halls, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

With graduation approaching, Nahoko began to understand the urgency in Pa's voice and the slight tremor in Oka-san's voice. She knew that bad things happened outside the village and more and more of her classmates were graduating early. Not all of them returned to their homes, either.

Slipping under the covers, Naho began to ponder her potential pathways as a kunoichi of Konoha.

As years began to roll by and her attention to detail gave way to clearer deductions, Naho realized that she found it quite easy to dissociate in a sense. Without emotions compromising her analytical skills, possibilities quite literally unfurled before her.

Carrying the name of the Hosokawa was a point in her favor, acutely aware of their influence and monetary worth throughout the land of fire. She could choose a diplomatic route with seemingly no need for military practice and simple knowledge, her book smarts lacking (namely through self-imposed lack of interest, not potential) though her observational and keen reasoning skills probable enough to carry her weight. Could she function as a strategist, a theorist?

Safely, yes.

Sanely? Improbable.

Abandoning that trail of thought, Nahoko metaphorically trudged forward, imagining a life of practical military expertise, a potentially B-A ranked kunoichi of Konoha, missions dominating her life scroll after scroll. That would require a steady team, something she found discomforted her greatly. She had people already, _her_ people that she very well intended to keep a sharp eye on throughout their years as shinobi.

Not saying they quite needed her help- Kakashi-kun very well did not need her sub-par physical abilities to remain alive, though she suspected her presence in his life was one remaining constant that simply _needed_ to be. Obito-kun and Rin-chan definitely could use her brains, though she wondered if her aid could be best employed through sheer strength and ability. Kakashi-kun certainly covered that area adequately enough _and_ he managed to squeeze a spot on their team (though he would definitely have some words regarding her observations there).

That left a third scenario that Nahoko began to consider. To become a medic, what would that entail?

The chocolate-haired girl realized that too did not quite meet her… would she say wants? Expectations? As a ten year-old kunoichi-in-training, Nahoko was not sure if she had many expectations per se, but she knew she had to envision an acceptable future for herself sometime soon. May as well be the eve before graduating from the Academy, when she still had some semblance of control.

She thought about accompanying Oka-san to the Uchiha compound, administering basic-level first aid to the elderly who found their bones creaked a bit too much when bending over, or the children haphazardly at play in the dirt and cobble streets. She didn't particularly dislike patient interaction, in fact she found it enjoyable at times. Though she did not feel her true calling, caring for civilian level ailments-

Ah. There in lay the solution to her midnight ponderings.

* * *

Pa was sitting at the edge of the gardens today while Oka-san fluttered around the spacious greenery.

It wasn't often that he invaded her peaceful environment, sitting coolly as he observed with a calm air about him. Naho did not know what to think of it, just after the previous night's argument. It was quite startling, how the air seemed to clear just before him and all signs of a storm had seemed to pass.

He was a frequent-absence, her Pa.

An irregularity that her large, childish eyes couldn't help but inspect.

She observed him from the door. He was watching Oka-san tend to the large wisteria tree, which had begun to overshadow some hedges with lovely little flowers. He spoke to Oka-san in a neutral baritone- a crossword puzzle, he was completing a crossword puzzle with her. She watched the way the corner of his lips curled as Uzumaki Shoken quipped an obviously incorrect answer to 'strategic moves.'

" _Games!"  
"Ploys."_

She would have thought it condescending, Pa's answer, if it weren't the way he dipped his head and let a smile bloom across his stormy face.

Ah.

"Understood by few."

 _"…he's awful to be around! He's so strict and serious!"_

Naho clasped her hands and tapped her fingers, watching Oka-san tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before shooting him a playful glare. Her wide blue eyes betrayed nothing but affection even while narrowed. She flitted her eyes back to Pa, who had craned his neck to discover her position at the sliding door. His grey eyes did not betray his start; she had hidden herself well.

"Nahoko."

Pa remained busy, seemed abrupt and curt and maybe even a bit frustrated sometimes.

Then he would look at Oka-san.

"Arcane," Nahoko quietly proffered as she found her place beside her Pa at the edge of the garden, settling herself down and lightly swinging her legs beside his resting ones.

He gave his daughter an appraising slant before humming in assent, dipping his gaze to cleanly print her _answer_.

* * *

If Oka-san had a breezy, spring like-chakra and Pa had a subtly impending and summer-like-chakra, she could only describe her oba-chan's as a mixture between the two. She had a fiery personality that could match Pa's thundery sternness, but she had an innate sweetness that reminded Hosokawa Nahoko of Oka-san's airy smiles.

Her oba-chan had only a good eight years on Nahoko, being Uzumaki Shoken's cousin rather than sibling. However Nahoko found that each time she referred to Uzumaki Kushina as 'oba-chan,' her senior Uzumaki would gain a pleasant twinkle in her eye. Her lips would curl rather heartily.

Naho liked it, so she never ceased the practice.

Currently she trailed behind said burgundy-haired spitfire in the marketplace, having agreed eagerly to spend time with her while Oka-san worked in the hospital and Pa was out on a mission. Unlike her time with Kakashi, Naho found herself listening rather than speaking often. She enjoyed listening to her oba-chan reminisce of her time as a child before Konoha, when she resided in the extinct Uzushiogakure. Apparently the weather was always fair and cool, not too warm or humid, and the atmosphere was very peaceful until the warring began and fleeing became a necessity.

"Do you like pomegranates, Naho?"

Snapping out of her reverie, twelve year-old Nahoko blinked at the stall at which they had stopped, inhaling deeply as a clean and flowery aroma assaulted her olfactory system. Bright red spheres dominated the stall, and Naho noted that there had to be at least fifty pomegranates before her, neatly organized and some seeds even out for samples. She felt her mouth widen as she gratefully accepted Kushina's extended hand, grasping the sizeable fruit from the deciduous shrub.

Examining it to her liking, Nahoko vaguely attempted to trudge up the facts of said fruit, remembering it hailed from the lythraceae family- hence the floral and fresh smell.

"Mm. I like the smell."

Kushina beamed at the younger Uzumaki, understanding her well enough to know that look on her face. Naho's deep blue eyes, not dissimilar to her own, would crinkle slightly beneath her wide, horn-rimmed glasses. Her little button-nose would crinkle as well, giving off a look that some would mistake for malcontent. She knew it was simple concentration and that her younger cousin was something of a genius, in her own right.

Handing money off to the merchant, Kushina beckoned the smaller girl forward, nothing short of a grin etched onto her face as she observed her cousin.

Nahoko's birth had been somewhat cause of discontent within the Hosokawa, and Kushina wondered if the preteen was ever made aware of her relatives' thoughts of her mixed blood. She thought it nothing but a strength, however, with the Uzumaki stamina she seemed to possess and the Hosokawa name to not hinder, but open nothing but generous pathways later in life.

The girl had already come so far, requesting a position as an active iryō-nin. It had been a little surprising to hear that she alone had voiced this request to Hosokawa Sosekin, subsequently revealing her powers of observation through diagnosis of several patients' to a select few in order to determine if she even _had_ the skills for medicine.

Her academy grades had her dragging at the bottom of her class, after all.

It seemed, ultimately, that Nahoko had never struggled with her _studies_. Her lack of interest and therefore lack of engagement was her struggle.

After realizing this one day, she shared her insights with Namikaze Minato while he oversaw the training of his recently-appointed team. She was not shocked- Nahoko was an Uzumaki, after all- but she certainly did not expect her younger cousin to possess such mental capabilities. She spent time with her as a child; she did not display any indication to higher-level thinking.

It seemed, however, that she was not the only one who wished to weigh in on Naho's competence.

She could have sworn she heard a distinct snort come from Hatake Kakashi's direction.

It was clear that he was not mocking Naho's intelligence, but Kushina's bewilderment with her cousin.

"Oi! It's not like you ever treated Naho like she was smart! You didn't know!" Uchiha Obito pointedly glared at the silver-haired boy, and she bore witness to a one-sided brawl between the boys- one claiming she was dumb simply because she did not try, the other attempting to defend Nahoko's honor.

"Oba-chan, can we stop here?"  
"Hmm? Books?"  
"Kakashi-kun is due a promotion soon, so he says."

Kushina grinned slyly at her cousin, leaning to her level. Nahoko could only describe the look she received as wicked or a bit predatory.

"'Kakashi-kun,' hm?"

She did not anticipate her face darkening a few shades, feeling warm and flustered as she ducked her head quickly and scuffled to the stall. Muttering about how she was proud of his achievements, Nahoko attempted to brush off her oba's teasing and light laughter about 'young love.'

Hatake Kakashi was a brilliant mind and of great talent.

There was no _reason_ she should not admire him.

* * *

Her hands glowed a warm, ethereal green the morning Team Minato departed for Kusagakure.

Nahoko was not one to hover. She had wished her friends off individually the previous couple of days, frequenting the teahouse near Rin-chan's residence to spend time with her fellow iryō-nin.

She did not doubt Rin-chan's abilities concerning medicine, and voiced this opinion when her friend raised her concerns with her own skill level. Comparing their situations was a vapid endeavor; Nahoko had made sure that she could walk a more natural, freer path than her friend. She did not want ties to a three-man cell that could become important to her. She did not concentrate on honing her technical skills as a kunoichi and iryō-nin simultaneously and as rigorously as Rin-chan needed to.

Her days comprised of lots of reading and lots of chakra control exercises. She did not neglect her physical conditioning, but her priorities and plans were far different than Rin-chan's. Rin-chan did not have her goals, therefore had no need to follow Nahoko's strict regime. Reassuring her friend was an easy task.

Time with Obito-kun that week was easy. They sparred on a few separate occasions, but mostly meandered around the Uchiha district in search of food (gratitude to Nahoko's wallet) and gossip. Most of their conversations ended in Obito's guffaws of laughter and Nahoko's red-faced hilarity before fleeing an incriminating scene.

Spending time with Kakashi was different, however. Often the one to seek him out, Naho never had much trouble. All she had to do was open her ears and the bellows about _'eternal rival'_ would lead her right to her mark.

She was able to give the silver-haired boy the book she had dug up from the Hosokawa compound after deciding against anything at the bookstore.

It was an old tomb, really, and Pa would probably have her hide if he knew she was giving it as a gift to a fellow shinobi that was in fact _not_ of Hosokawa lineage.

She had weighed the pros and cons of handing over such script without keeping an original copy, but with the interactions that she _did_ have with her Hosokawa brethren, she could not help but feel she'd need a little assistance down the line. It was not a difficult decision to put the historical contents of one of the most prominent clans in history in his hands.

She had proffered a veiled smile that she knew he recognized to be exactly that, and he merely nodded his head in silent gratitude. She did not miss the flicker of surprise in his eye before his smooth composure returned.

In that, she felt victorious.

"Good luck," she had said.

"Luck," he had scoffed, "luck has nothing to do with skill."

She had only hummed in agreement, eyes crinkled in good humor. She had no idea that she'd be selected as an iryō-nin for the four-man support cell heading to Kusagakure just days later.

* * *

 _Her heart pounds in her ears._

 _There are **three** people before her when there should be four. _

_She is in standard shinobi gear with her hitai-ate wrap snuggly around her head. It does not gleam proudly as she feels the raindrops come faster now. They race down her skin as she takes hold of the folded scroll, clenching it in her sweaty palms. Is it sweat or is it rain?_

 _"…hoko-san."_

 _She knows it is her pulse in her ears racing and her blood pressure has risen although there are no symptoms of high blood pressure. She understands the medical context behind these reactions but she does not know how to connect the incidences. She can explain how the mechanisms work and how to treat an anxiety episode but she cannot seem to control her own physiological symptoms as she sees three familiar faces and not four._

 _"Nahoko-san!"_

 _Her voice rings clear. "Yes."_

 _She turns to her taicho in question but her voice reveals no inflection. It is flat._

 _"We are relieving this unit. Iwagakure forces assuredly are 10-15 kilometers east. This is a direct assault."_

 _Translation: this will be a quick and brutal operation. There is no room for the compassion of an iryō-nin._

 _"Yes." She takes her clammy hands off_ his _skin. She has done what she can in the field, not much better than Rin-chan has. Maybe she has alleviated some of his pain. She does not know. She adjusts to move away from his pale face._

 _Stricken._

 _There is a grip on her arm as she prepares to leave with this nameless four-man cell. It is strong, bone-bruising. She looks Hatake Kakashi in his uncovered eye. It is red-rimmed. Her stomach churns in confirmation._

 _There are three when there should be **four**. _

_She cannot hear but she sees the fabric of his mask shift. She balls her fist and reaches behind her, placing the scroll in her medic pack. She compresses her lips and wrenches his hand off with a steely grip. Can she even breathe?_

 _She departs in a soundless gust._

"Don't try to bring him home."

 _There is nothing to bring home._

* * *

 _ **16 Years Later.**_

Incompetence.

It wasn't a word that Uchiha Itachi became too familiar with.

Inefficiency, too, did not sit with the raven-haired man. He had abandoned incompetence, deserted inefficiency and all but purged anything less than quality from his life. It took something more than the average being to become an elite Shinobi, something that most did not possess.

For that, he had become cold, brutally so and almost like a machine with how effectively he made decisions. But for whatever incredible strength and superior intellect Itachi possessed, he was human. Fiercely dedicated to Konoha, the Sharingan-wielding nin would do anything, or just short it seemed. A few things managed to, unfathomably, slip through his grasp, love for his foolish Otouto and perhaps the loyalty to his village were understandable, maybe. However, there was one thing, more so one person, that he could not, for Kami's sake, grasp.

Mask nearly slipping, Uchiha Itachi slowly, deliberately, ambled down the small village's main road, fingers lightly tipping the brim of his straw-like hat.

There was something about this Shinobi that he could not bring himself to dispose. He always came to the conclusion that it was their skill. He would not call it talent, he mused, for this particular woman had worked exceptionally hard. No, he could not simply kill her and dispose of that refined and hard-earned technique. He had first met her when he was a child, no more than five or six years old, however she had made an impression that even he could not deny.

Bringing his stride to a halt, the rogue-nin glanced at the establishment immediately before him. How she could imagine this place as sanctuary almost made the corner of his lips curve, however he refrained as he lightly strode into the dimly lit bar. It was easy to spot her amidst the sparse crowd; she had never troubled herself with anonymity.

However foolish he believed it to be, he did not bother to mention it as he settled beside her at the age-worn bar. He did not go as far as comfort, noting that she did not react to his placement.

This time the corner of his lips did quirk for a brief moment before he gently lifted his hat from his head, slowly placing it upon the flat surface. At this small gesture, the adept woman finally stirred. She had her small hands folded upon the bar, and it did not take a genius to note she was a little worse for wear.

No, this woman lacked something just as he, and that was what created their skill. It took a special kind of human being to become an elite Shinobi.

"Nahoko-san." His level greeting caused the woman to frown deeply, and he almost smiled again at the dip to her brow as she turned her dark eyes to rest unhappily on his face. She appraised him in a discontent way, her jaw shifting imperceptibly and her small nose wrinkling in a way that cut her age 10 years.

"Itachi-san." The Uchiha heir simply held her annoyed gaze, a tiny spark of amusement filling those dark eyes as he accepted her prickly greeting. Hosokawa Nahoko was an audacious woman. It never ceased to inspire a small sense of incredulity in the younger Uchiha when she would address him so. Never in his life had he had a woman react to his presence like she would.

In line with her character, the Uchiha observed as Nahoko boldly turned her attention away from him and scoffed at the dark-skinned man behind the bar, signaling that he need not linger.

Interesting.

It seemed after these years their friendship did not cease.

"Itachi-san," her dry voice continued, "I wish I could say it's a pleasure." Nahoko never did pay much heed to the fact that he was an S-ranked rogue-nin. Even in their younger days, she never treated him as the untouchable and disciplined Uchiha heir that the village chose to see.

Uzumaki Shoken, a very refined and retired combat-medic of the Second Shinobi War, oversaw many Uchiha procedures during her tenure at Konoha General. She gained what little trust the Uchiha had to offer through rushed battlefield aid and frequently made inconsequential check-ups to the Uchiha Compound. As far as he knew, her quiet mahogany-haired daughter had always accompanied her.

Uchiha Itachi could remember the weather perfectly on that day, how the humidity saturated the ambient air and the storm clouds began to roll in aggressively, screening the blaring sun with splotches of darkened grey.

 _Sweat dripped from his brow as he entered his residence, his heightened senses immediately tracking a disturbance in the chakra network of his home._

 _Uzumaki-san believed her daughter would best benefit from experience lined outside the four walls of sterilized sanctuary. It was not her there that struck Itachi, but the presence of the small, chocolate-haired girl standing beside her Oka-san, who had taken to cooing the small bundle of energy in Uchiha Mikoto's arms. The women were animated in their conversing, so much that neither noticed Hosokawa Nahoko's minute actions._

 _The young Uchiha heir had concealed his presence the moment he stepped in, deciding to observe this girl with her scrunched nose and hard eyes. It seemed that she did not enjoy the noises his tiny Otouto garbled, he noted with a level stare. Her hands were laced lackadaisically behind her back, however Itachi immediately realized she was not standing as innocently and patiently as she let on._

 _Her hands were glowing a very pale, barely visible green light, causing Itachi to narrow his black eyes dangerously._

 _It was here that the girl sharply turned her dark navy eyes to him, and it only took her a moment to jerk her head in a quick motion._

 _She was signaling him._

 _He had half a mind to expose the arrogant iryō-nin and her shady presence, though the curious half won him over._

 _She had spotted him, with his chakra all but concealed._

 _The logical six year-old merely listed his options and calculated his move. He watched from outside as the short girl smiled widely at the two women and could have only been giving them an excuse for her departure. Itachi noticed her smile was a little more crooked as she looked upon the child that could only be Uchiha Sasuke. He frowned._

 _She ducked out smoothly, and Itachi raised a brow as she ambled out of the residence too casually._

 _"You're the genius?"_

 _Her voice was light, not purposefully, and he noted her smile was not forced. The girl couldn't have been more that twelve or thirteen years old he deduced as he eyed the blue Konoha hitai-ate on her arm. Her blue eyes were a dark shade but held a light friendliness that invited him to divulge more than she asked._

 _He wouldn't._

 _The Uchiha heir inclined his head minutely, face expressionless as he observed the nervous twitch of her cheek, how she blinked one too many times and how her fingers tapped together anxiously._

 _She was nervous. He had never met this girl before, and as he looked up at the flighty medic, he wondered vaguely if she had heard-_

 _"Then you should really act like it, you know. Oka-san is watching."_

 _Itachi blinked._

 _There was a pregnant pause, where the sky rumbled above and the atmosphere seemed to be at its saturation point. Where the next breath he inhaled seemed thicker than it should have, before his brows pulled-_

 _Looking back on that first encounter, Itachi knew this girl was strange. She hailed from the Hosokawa, a clan shrouded by political and economic wealth. She had a disarming way about her, with an open smile and honest eyes, and she spoke earnestly._

 _He was not treated as the genius boy or the renowned heir to one of the most powerful clans in the Shinobi world on that sweltering July afternoon. She spoke to him in a way that seemed blatantly disrespectful. It wasn't so much the words she used, although he swore in her rant he had caught a muttered 'baka' and 'urusai,' which confounded him because he hadn't said a word in their whole interaction._

 _And the way she had folded her arms once the raindrops began to fall one by one, she pinned him with a look that none dared with him, not even his own Oka-san. Namely because she never had reason; he was perfect in almost every way._

 _Her friendly smile never wavered, and she forcibly held his gaze as she gently revealed that his tiny Otouto needed medical attention urgently. His chakra passageways were constricting quite dangerously due to any number of environmental or genetic factors, and it had gone so far as to affect the way his small breaths would leave his mouth, hence his garbled noises. Those small and seemingly adorable noises could be mistaken for normal attempts at communication, she explained, and she would have thought nothing of it if Mikoto-san hadn't mentioned the newborn's unbelievable stamina at only two weeks. Her lips were still curved as she explained that although constricted passageways ultimately end up with disability and most likely death, they can appear as a miracle in the beginning, for the chakra system was very similar to the cardiovascular system and the mechanisms of blood pressure. She stepped closer and flatly told him that compressed chakra would show signs of increased stamina due to the fact that he seems to have more at disposal, but the reality was he would likely strain his body within days and die because his chakra system was just not developed and advanced enough to adapt to such a condition._

 _She clasped her hands as she pleasantly reminded him that Oka-san was watching, his Oka-san who had just given birth two weeks ago and was still riddled with hormones and therefore very susceptible to panic and ill health if any distress came her way._

 _"Sasuke-kun, is it?"_

 _This girl who resembled a true Uzumaki with her seemingly bad temperant, who resembled a thorough-bred Hosokawa with her sharp eyes and words, had the audacity to make the Uchiha Itachi pause._

 _"You are certain."_

 _Her warm smile seemed her bleed into her eyes this time, and she even showed a bit of teeth as she openly grinned at the six year-old genius._

 _"Matters of health are never certain, Uchiha-san."_

That line had burned the back of his eyelids even to this day.

Nahoko was not as nonchalant as she wanted to seem. Itachi's intelligent eyes noted the tension in her shoulders, and he believed the creases in her forehead and brow had painted her face long before his arrival.

For the majority, he could describe her as polite, but always with a sharp bite if necessary. It would have been amusing if he had the luxury to entertain it.

"You have much... to lose, I suppose," he murmured, though not gentle it was not a harsh statement.

She flinched.

"This is the third one of you I have encountered in the last week." Here she nodded at his cloak before rubbing her pink wrists, all movements Itachi's careful eyes observed. With an air of authority did he focus his gaze upon her face, eyes naturally bleeding red from years of habit.

"You do not seem surprised."

It was true. Although stiff, she did not seem shocked in the slightest to be speaking with him, nor did she seem to fear his intentions.

She had always been an audacious Kunoichi.

But he was not here to merely observe Hosokawa Nahoko. However much he could almost enjoy her company, he did not come for companionship.

Fingers twitching, Nahoko brought a hand to her face as she released a heavy breath. Everything was happening so fast, she could barely keep up. She didn't even know what day of the week it was. All she was certain of was the knot in her belly had never left. Especially with all these dangerous shinobi crossing her path as of late _and_ with her impending return to the village where she had _lost. it. all._

First she had to go and save _him_ and leave her sanity in shreds. Why she had even risked her life for him in the first place was difficult to think about. Now she had to literally face him down after almost ten years of recovery?

Not to mention was her almost decade-long mission on the brink of failure.

How was it that everything had fallen apart in a matter of weeks when she had been keeping it together just fine for years?

"There's a limit to how many criminals even I can associate with in one week, my friend."

 _My friend._

She uttered it so casually to him, almost as if he had never murdered his entire clan in a single evening. He supposed that was why it was so easy to converse with her. If Itachi were another man, a man prone to liking people and praising companions, he could say that he genuinely found her agreeable. She was respectful yet demanded respect, polite but not cold, firm without any harshness, had a strong code of morals. Now, was her morality in line with Konoha's agenda?

That he could not say.

"That one with the orange mask…" Itachi quietly waited for the woman six years his senior to continue. She had a habit of starting sentences before she knew entirely what comprised them. He would have found it an annoyance if she had ever failed to deliver.

Over the years, she never had.

"Approaching me at the facility, as if he needed my information to find what he was looking for… he didn't. He managed to infiltrate the facility without a worry," she balled her fist in her lap, "He did not need anything from me. And the fact that his timing was so impeccable with Fujishima Daetsu's advance has my anxiety through the roof. There was correlation, but was it causation?"

She never failed to deliver.

"Tobi," there was no harm in uttering his name. Itachi knew, decidedly, that it was not the man's true identity.

She merely nodded absently, loosening her clenched hand. She had already given him what he came for- confirmation. The man in the orange mask seemed to have made friends in the staff at her current hospital, although for what reason he could not yet say.

"He intimidated me…"

She had nothing left to give him. Nahoko had served her purpose for the moment.

Silently, Itachi eyed the barkeep before rising, grabbing his straw hat and placing it back on his head. He was never one to linger. Uchiha Itachi did not have the luxury of amassing friends, only stepping stones to lead him to his desired goals.

Hosokawa Nahoko, a woman worth far more than Konohagakure no Sato realized, was not a stone overstepped.

"Itachi."

Really, the Uzumaki born medic's audacity had no end.

He inclined his head slightly, his body language suggesting that he was barely listening as he faced the exit. Naho knew, however, that when it came to Uchiha Itachi, looks were very misleading.

"The Kyuubi Jinchuriki…"

He wondered, briefly, if she knew she spoke his name or if she was too far immersed in her thoughts to understand speech. As he made to turn fully, though, he caught a small smile playing on her lips, reaching her dim blue eyes.

"He lives in Konoha, right? An Uzumaki?"

Hosokawa Nahoko was a strange woman that associated with illegal affairs, bounties, and a handful of criminals. She had a strange code of morals but was a true medic to the very core. Her frankness could be mistaken for impudence, but as a whole Itachi could very well believe that she was as clever as some said.

"I guess he's my kin, in a weird sort of clan way."

He did not miss the strain in her voice.

Here she looked on fully, and although he was not directly facing her, the Uchiha heir could feel that same level look from all those years ago center on his person.

"I'll be returning to Konoha, you know. I can't disgrace the Sandaime Hokage by botching this like my subordinates at the facility would. Even if he is dead."

"Aa."

"No hard feelings, you know, when I have to break your bones or something to keep him out of Akatsuki's hands," the emotionally distant Uchiha could feel her brazen, strained grin even as he stepped away, noting with a faint, silent smirk that she had uttered 'when' and not 'if.' And she even knew their goals.

Clever woman.

"I expect the sentiment is reciprocated."

If the Uchiha Itachi ever could feel incredulity, hesitation, or flat out second-hand embarrassment, it would be from speaking with the one they called Naho in the illicit underground.

* * *

"Nahoko, are you okay?"

She flinched slightly as Hakkar's gravelly voice drifted to her attention, pushing flyaway mahogany strands behind her ear before slamming her enlaced fist into the chakra infused sandbag along the beat of her metronome.

 _Thump._

"Because you know… if you aren't…"

 _Thump._

She hated that question. _Are you okay?_ What kind of question was that? To what was it referring? Were people asking about physicality, wounds, abrasions, etc.? Or emotional health, her social health, her spiritual health? Was okay just an all-encompassing term for her several states of being, or just one?

 _Thump._

What did people want to know?

"We can talk about it."

"My wounds have healed excellently, Hakkar."

 _Thump._

She kept on cadence, striking the heavy bag with concentrated strength. She needed to rebuild her strength in her wrists, reconstruct the chakra passageways that she so carelessly destroyed. It was a difficult process, patching up such delicate lines that basically determined the function of her motor control.

"That's not what I mean."

 _Thump._

She knew that wasn't what Hakkar meant. Nahoko knew he was talking about her mind. Over the past weeks, the older man had treaded carefully around the sharp medic, careful not to mention the hospital or her shadowy cousin that had so kindly escorted her from the facility.

Sucking her teeth, Nahoko pounded the hanging bag once more before cutting her dark eyes over to the man. Juuya Hakkar stood in the grass with his arms folded, slightly tilting his head to keep his eyes on the Leaf Kunoichi. Said Leaf rolled her eyes, stepping down the wooden steps of the miniature dojo that she had resided in for weeks. She ran a bandaged hand over her sweaty brow, wiping the excess moisture on her black tank.

"I'm functioning."

Her short response caused the dark-skinned man to harden his stare. The lean woman was wearing a standard black tank and navy Shinobi stretch-pants, presumably standard Konoha issue. Her shoulder adorned a small, black tattoo that Hakkar identified as Black Operatives of some type, and her small still-pink wrist possessed some ink of its own.

Her attire revealed more to him than she ever would.

"Functioning is a mild term, child."

Her cheek twitched at the tired nickname.

Busying herself with her bindings, Nahoko pointedly turned away from the man decades her senior. Her eyes never strayed from her hands as she unwrapped them, but she seemed to have trouble swallowing as she did so. Of course she knew that she was not healthy. Nahoko's strongest asset as an iryō-nin was her ability to diagnose a patient. She was well known as a diagnostician, not a miracle worker. Yes, she was a refined medic and with practice became worthy, but she did not consider herself a genius in the world of medicine. She was not like Senju Tsunade. She did not have the raw talent to become a legend.

She, did, however possess the sharp skill of perceptibility. It was something she never remembered acquiring, but made great use of.

So as a diagnostic expert, Hosokawa Nahoko certainly knew she was not in the best condition. She was vaguely aware of her episodes, as other medics seemed to deem them. She was aware of her blackouts, as uncommon as they were, and she knew she did not view the world as most Shinobi would. As similar to PTSD as her symptoms were, there were a few discrepancies between her symptoms and the mental disorder. She did not want to lessen PTSD by misdiagnosing herself, and Nahoko believed in her diagnostic skills.

It unnerved her that she could not understand her own mind.

"Functioning is sufficient enough."

"Maybe to you Shinobi, your Hidden Villages. But normal people…"

His tone caused Nahoko to frown deeply and swallow something thick before turning slightly, squaring him with a hard look.

"It has to be enough, Hakkar."

The slight tremble in her voice severely betrayed her expression, Hakkar noted with grim, hard-line mouth. It was a small reminder that although this woman was a presumably strong Leaf, she was probably plucked as a child to become a Shinobi and learned at a very raw and impressionable age to kill. But this woman was a medic, a very talented medic to mention that saved his very own life a few years back. So not only was she trained to kill, but juxtaposed to save lives simultaneously and therefore became the woman she was today.

Saving lives, criminal or not.

This particular criminal sighed quietly, watching with a careful eye as Nahoko balled her hands a few times to test for flexibility. Really she was testing how the flow of chakra differed, determining with narrowed eyes that it would take a bit more time to completely heal her most useful extremities.

She did not have enough chakra control in her fingers to maintain her small illusion, so her mechanical phalanges shined proudly with the overcast sun. The Leaf medic paused, catching the shine casually with her eye. She had these hands because she made a choice as a girl and never once did she regret her choice. She questioned it many times, however. Like why exactly did it take so little time for her to decide that Hatake Kakashi was one hundred percent worth her sacrifice?

"Functioning or not, you associate with a dangerous crowd, Naho. That guy, for example, leaked just an ounce of killing intent and about had my closing up shop for the day."

Frowning pensively, Nahoko sat easily on the wooden stairs, crossing her bare ankles before her carelessly. It was true, she did mingle with a very shady side of the Shinobi world. However, Sandaime Hiruzen Sarutobi-sama entrusted her with such a task, and it seemed it was about time to produce her results to the one and only Slug Sannin herself, Godaime Tsunade-sama.

Great.

"Uchiha Itachi… he's a peculiar one. I doubt he'll grace you with his presence again. This establishment is a little… unsatisfactory for his tastes."

Hakkar scoffed loudly but said no more as he took a seat to lounge beside the medic. Nahoko merely sighed, on the brink of distress. There was so much to tend to and there she was, gathering her meager strength so she could attempt to put things right.

Hosokawa Vera saved her life when she was in a pinch. Her elder cousin had received her call for aid and pulled through in the nick of time. There was the matter of the masked man of the Akatsuki, a terrifying enigma that Nahoko had a feeling she would see again. There was the matter of Fujishima Daetsu's despicable nature that she had to personally deal with. Then, of all things, there was the matter of the Hosokawa's disgusting foreknowledge of Fujishima's crimes and their blatant indifference to the matter.

Really? Did the Hosokawa value Fujishima Daetsu's cardiothoracic finesse that much? They were willing to overlook his violent crimes so he could perform questionable surgeries at their facility just to bring in revenue or to promote popularity?

Nahoko hypothesized that Hokage-sama's summons could not have been a coincidence. She had to either know or suspect the cardiothoracic surgeon's involvement in the brutalities reported.

Fujishima Daetsu was somehow connected with a violent underground organization with black cloaks and red clouds.

It was time to act.

"You're gonna leave."

Nahoko knew Juuya Hakkar was not a sentimental man. However as she bobbed her head in confirmation, she felt him shift with a heavy sigh.

"Where ya gonna go?"

"I have informational scrolls that have been taken care of for a very handsome price. I need to retrieve them."

"Oh? Don't tell me it's one of those offices, Naho…"

Nahoko quirked her lips, but her smile felt elastic and strange because she was distracting herself from what she was tying to her forehead. Her hitai-ate gleamed in the later afternoon sun, and her throat felt dry as she tied the last knot on the blue fabric for adjustment. She hadn't worn it properly in years, mostly because it caused discomfort with her scrub cap, but it felt like something was shifting as she performed this small act and she felt a little bit of terror rise inside her.

She pushed it down.

"Sorry, but those bounty exchange offices are great if you've got the cash."

"I would have kept them. I bet you I would do just about anything for you."

Something in his voice caused Nahoko to soften, placing her hand on his shoulder with a small smile. She couldn't swallow the lump in her throat and her chest felt tight, and she honestly couldn't discern if it was from the sudden emotion or her complete and utter dread of the thought of stepping foot in Konoha. So she just squeezed his shoulder, managing what she could.

"I know. I know. But hey, this one was creative. Hidden behind a urinal, who would have thought, huh."

"Child, those are the dangerous ones."


	3. Bloodstone

**Strong language warning**

 **III. Bloodstone (Heliotrope)**

 **1.** Bloodstone (Heliotrope) may be classified as a Jasper or Chalcedony variety of Quartz, and is usually a combination of the two

 **2.** Bloodstone dipped in cold water and applied to an afflicted area is highly beneficial in staunching blood flow and hemorrhages of all sorts

* * *

Senju Tsunade sat with a hard set to her jaw, resting her chin on her clasped hands.

Not mere minutes ago had she given the order to assemble the newly formed _Nijyuu Shoutai_ in a large-scale attempt to halt Akatsuki's tracks in the Land of Fire. She ground her molars as she contemplated the fresh intelligence she had received from surrounding areas, one particular set of information confirming previous haunting suspicions. Grimacing, the sannin swiveled in her seat, gazing over Konoha's rooftops with a glaze shimmering her toffee eyes.

Fujishima Daetsu, a respected cardiac surgeon and bloody brilliant sort of man, was an Akatsuki cohort.

She had briefly met the Kirigakure _iryō nin_ years ago in another time, another war, and had never a good feeling about his prowess. Now, she had proof that he certainly was not the _healer_ he claimed to be.

"Shizune." Her lips dipped as a flash of the deepest blue cut her mind cleanly, "let's get to the briefing."

* * *

"Asuma." She had dismissed the majority of Shinobi, however something flashed in her eyes as she addressed the Sarutobi.

Halting his movements, the man plucked the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled slowly, "Hokage-sama?"

The blonde sighed wearily as she ran a hand over her face in an exhausted and maybe exasperated sort of manner.

She supposed… it was about time for that troublesome girl to emerge. It had been years…

"More than likely, the Akatsuki are not the only S-ranked nin you will encounter…"

 **/~/**

"What'd Hokage-sama want?" Nara Shikamaru spared his sensei an appraising glance as he arrived moments after his squad.

Said man merely stubbed his cigarette and heaved a deep breath, turning to his student with a wry quirk to his lips.

 _Heh._

"Just a friendly warning."

The Nara frowned, not quite sure, with all the analytical tools at his disposal, what to make of that expression.

 **/~/**

Shikamaru listened to his sensei reassure the monk at the temple, an uneasy pit in his stomach as the Jōnin joked, "My head's worth 5 million more than Chiruku's!"

Somehow, Asuma-sensei's laugh rang hollow.

He wondered, a small seed of dread now wretchedly planted, where had that come from?

* * *

Her feet remained firmly planted on the cold concrete floor.

He watched the woman's eyes flicker to the left, right, inspecting her surroundings with an air of caution. He supposed it was necessary, did not fault Hosokawa Nahoko for her vigilance, but something caused his muscles to tighten as he watched the _supposed_ iryō-nin.

She was a slight thing, but he wagered her build was more a trick to the eye than actual fragility. Zangei absolutely knew where others saw a thin arm, there lie sleek muscles that just _begged_ for provocation. She had stood in that same spot, years ago it seemed, with the same glint in her eye- not fear, not necessarily caution, but more of a challenge- as if she wished something would spring from the woodworks.

The bald man watched as she began moving forward, her body tilted slightly and her neck craned to observe the morgue-like area. She wore her Konoha _hitai-ate_ snugly around her forehead- proudly, he noted. Unlike last time. Last he saw her, her mahogany hair was long and curled, though now it just swept her shoulders yet still held that wispy wave. He trained his eyes forward, decidedly not tracing the outline of her rear in those tight pants- shinobi pants, he reminded himself.

She'd have his bits if she even suspected.

"There are no traps for you today, Hosokawa. I like the end results of this transaction too much to screw this up."

Really, how could he pass up 70 million ryō, just to hold a few scrolls securely? Truly, he had underestimated the woman's intellect when she had first waltzed into his business. The bounty on her had not been high, however for her to show herself when she had one on her head _at all_ spoke volumes. It wasn't until she offered a hefty sum twice that of her bounty did he suspect that the brunette was _seriously_ daft.

She wasn't much back then, just a bushy-haired _iryō-nin_ from Konoha that happened to hold the most lucrative surname in all of the Land of Fire. Of course he would hold some dingy scrolls and tombs if it meant a steady check from the finest.

Who would have thought her bounty would triple in the coming years?

Certainly not Zangei.

The bald broker watched Hosokawa merely hum in acknowledgement, coming to stand before him with a small smile.

Apparently this woman knew. She had always known. Yet she _still_ managed to pay him 10 million more than the current price of her pretty little head. She wasn't daft at all. Hosokawa Nahoko was a businesswoman.

She blinked her pretty blue eyes at him with her long lashes, "I'm here to collect, and put an end our amicable transaction for the moment."

Really, how could he deny such a pretty face? One that was able to put her money where her _shapely_ mouth was, too.

He nodded to her patient figure, turning to retrieve the number of documents she decided to store throughout the years. It would have been a flimsy lie to say he had not been curious about their contents, but what with the one obvious and quite horrendous seal visible on the quaint papers, Zangei decided that some things were just not worth pursuing. Hosokawa no doubt had her share of nasty secrets, but the businesswoman certainly knew how to buy out a partner.

Naho took this time to shakily, quietly inhale a breath, nose twitching slightly at the smell of the makeshift morgue. The foul smell of death and excrements permeated the air and probably her clothes, not to mention the scrolls she had come to retrieve.

She was so tired, too. She hadn't a good night's sleep in days, and before fleeing the hospital and Fujishima Daetsu she had performed a six-hour surgery. She was not one-hundred percent, and that left her on edge. Alas, the sight of the bounty broker going through several wards in a morgue slot had her expression filled with slight anticipation.

 _Ten years…_

Nahoko was so preoccupied with the fact that her quite extended mission was coming to a close that she was positively spooked when she heard the _grating_ and _shifting_ of stone, followed by a muffled and distinctly male voice.

"I can't believe they hid the entrance behind a urinal…"

 _Fuck._

Naho's situation was extremely delicate, and she had not accounted for an unwelcome visit from what was likely criminals on the other side of the morgue wall in her all but ten minute stay. Discretion, at this point, was no longer an option. Her mechanical fingers, three on her right hand, twitched and in that moment she felt a pinch on what remained of nerve endings-

"You shall follow my lead, Zangei, lest you forget exactly _who_ bestowed upon you that _becoming_ scar."

 **/~/**

She watched the Akatsuki member with the slicked hair and the harsh scowl gripe about the smell, keeping her hands folded behind her back. He carried a unique type of scythe on his back- a bit ostentatious, if anyone in that moment had cared for Naho's opinion.

Zangei had tossed her his plain, white coat in a flustered rush, if not out of comraderie then most certainly out of greed. After all, why should he adhere to her thinly veiled threat when not just one, but two members of the wretched Akatsuki waltzed right in and could end her in seconds.

She suppressed a groan.

" _You are aid for the bodies. That is all."_

She wasn't even spared a glance. Her _hitai-ate_ all but burned in her fingers, almost forgetting its existence entirely as the criminals had glided in the urinal space. She remained stock still as the ostentatious man sneered in her general area, commenting again about the _'fuckin' gross'_ smell of the facility. He politely opted to wait outside, but not before giving Naho's rigid form a long once-over with a vile glint in his eye.

"Heh."

She had never known a more irritating moment.

She couldn't help but bristle, sliding her eyes to make contact-

 _Great._

The man towered over her form, though it wasn't so much his height as the coloring of his sclera that gave Naho pause. Crimson red sclera and heavy, green irises pierced her already coiled form, and it took everything in her not to hold her breath as he scanned her persona. Seemingly unimpressed, the hulking man adorned in black resumed counting his money.

She may have not known the crass Akatsuki member's name, but she would be damned if she couldn't identify the one known as Kakuzu. She had too many _friends_ and too much experience with her own dealings in the illicit underground to be ignorant of the infamous bounty hunter.

Kami, Hakkar was the proprietor of one of the most sought-out black market establishments in the country, and she was quite the regular.

So, no, she was not ignorant of this man. And from small appearances- the feigned indifference of his stature, the strained creases in the corners of his peculiar and downright disconcerting eyes, the fact that he was on his third count of his money when it was all so obviously _there_ \- he was not ignorant of her as well.

Hosokawa Nahoko believed she had a very general set of features and plain enough to prevent standing out. Apparently, she had been wrong.

"I assure you, Kakuzu-san, it is a much more lucrative endeavor to enter an arrangement with me than to _attempt_ murder _._ "

 **/~/**

He wasn't sure what he had expected, in retrospect.

When Hokage-sama had lightly mentioned that the resurfacing of Hosokawa Nahoko was very likely to happen, Sarutobi Asuma felt something akin to relief. Relief, because it was Hosokawa and she was familiar and warm and if memory served, about one of the only universally liked in the village based on her crinkled eyes and upturned lips alone. Relief because, despite the years separating her from the village, she was very much a competent kunoichi of Konoha. Relief because whatever had her gone this long was over and she could return and it wouldn't look as if there were a gaping hole in their generation anymore.

But, he hadn't known what to expect. How would she appear? Would she simply be there when his cell returned, standing beside Kurenai with that funny smile curving her too-wide mouth?

Or would she intercept them on their return, make a quiet gesture of her arrival?

Asuma hadn't known what to expect. Certainly not when he uttered the foreboding and choking words, "Where's the other guy?" amidst their skirmish with an Akatsuki member, he certainly did not have any thoughts of Hosokawa Nahoko.

As soon as the words left his lips, however, there was an _earthshattering_ crash and the shifting of rock, rubble, and the very ground beneath their feet.

 _Shikamaru!_

 ** _/~/_**

Naho ran a frustrated hand through her shoulder-length curls.

Irritation laced her actions as she held a steady hand over the chest of the bounty-broker, Zangei. The hazy, pale glow was the only thing she could see amidst the ambient dirt and stone, which hadn't vacated the area thanks to the far wall being crushed. Dank light filtered through the air in the caved-in facility.

Naho pressed her lips firmly together as she felt the slick texture of blood, increasing her efforts minutely to ensure the survival of this injured man, or as she preferred, this well of information. Zangei had lots to offer while his heart was still beating, so as Naho pressed firmly upon his chest once, she sighed in relief as she felt a familiar thump respond. He was unconscious, breathing, and after a few moments of ignoring the overabundance of _noise_ outside, not in danger of losing much more blood.

He was as stable as she was willing to get him; anything more would require too much of her chakra and, frankly, too much of her time.

She did her best to ignore the screaming of the fanatic outside, as well as the panic of what she identified as to be shinobi forces. Someone was taking the brunt of the crass Akatsuki member's blows.

And, if she listened close enough, there was someone just outside of the broken facility speaking.

Naho took her time maneuvering silently around the rubble after propping Zangei against a stable wall, caution outweighing her medic concerns for the shinobi outside. Truly though, the more she listened to the man's voice outside, the more fascination caught hold and trepidation flew from her limbs.

She caught the end of a lengthy explanation about a ritual- _file it until relevant_ , she reminded herself- and the decapitation of the crass Akatsuki. Truly, this was all very intriguing and informational and totally _worthless_ to her attempt to get these scrolls to Godaime Senju Tsunade.

Worthless, she thought, until she caught the forest green flak-jacket with...

 _Oka-san_ -

The Uzumaki Clan symbol. The Uzushiogakure symbol.

"Brilliant."

 **/~/**

Nara Shikamaru watched in utter disgust as the Akatsuki member's head continued to run his mouth despite lacking a very necessary _body_.

In all his experience, admittedly which was not much in advanced S-class battle, he had not hoped to come across such an opponent. He groaned in a mixture of exhaustion and desperation. A flash of hopelessness cut cleanly through his core, and he watched in a macabre horror as the masked Akatsuki muttered a few words before going to aim a brutal kick at his sensei.

He winced as he heard impact and Izumo utter a helpless, "Asuma-taicho!" but truly focused when he heard a grunt that was distinctly uncharacteristic of his sensei- female, at that. Shikamaru took a great deal of stock in his analytical prowess, not to mention the breakdown of problems and running at least ten solutions simultaneously.

However in all of the simulations he had run, he did not account for the sudden appearance of a woman catching the blow for his sensei with her forearm, a pained flash gracing exaggerated features before she was on the _offensive_ \- stepping forward with the quickest footing, twisting her hands now on the masked-Akatsuki's leg and _propelling_ him meters away with a precise force.

She didn't pause for even a moment as she quickly gathered Asuma-sensei with a shoulder before flashing over directly to the team, "You really know how to pick them, Sarutobi."

Shikamaru garnerd the details at once. A coughing sort of laugh from his sensei, openness and ease. A Konoha _hitai-ate_ adorning her forehead, dark navy eyes. Wide mouth that curled only a bit. Familiarity with his sensei, a crinkle to her eyes.

"What the hell, Hosokawa?"

She was facing the Akatsuki again, who had taken the time to reattach the other's head. Lots of language from that one. It passed through Shikamaru's filter as he narrowed his brown eyes upon the spiral tattoo on her upper left shoulder- ANBU.

"Mm, in the area, was all."

She was watching the two opponents opposite of them, reaching into her pack on her waist and pulling supplies until she felt satisfied with the pill she retrieved. She popped it in her mouth. Her eyes weren't even on his sensei as he suddenly felt a pull of unmistakable chakra, and then her hands were pale green and over his sensei's arm.

 _An iryō-nin_ …

"Your old man really put me in a bind, you know." Her demeanor was not playful as she uttered those words and by the way Asuma-sensei grimaced, it seemed he knew more or less what she was talking about.

He managed to make his voice light, though, as he pushed her hand away, "Yeah. Thanks, Naho."

"Oi, where do you get off, bitch! Acting all meek and meager earlier!"

Naho's eyes briefly flashed before patting Asuma-sensei on the shoulder, rising from her crouched position. She seemed to quickly appraise the group, eyes roaming over Kotetsu and Izumo before glancing at the Nara tactician.

"Two chūnin-level chakra… recently appointed Jōnin, one veteran…"

She spoke under her breath and her lip curled in a sneer, something Asuma-sensei immediately noted.

"Naho…"  
"Godaime- _sama_ truly is a strategist."

The way her voice lilted upon Hokage-sama's title caused Shikamaru to furrow his brow, readying himself in a defensive position with the two Akatsuki seeming paused in their conversation. Her disrespect was noted. However, if she deduced their ranks so easily…

"What is the plan?" Shikamaru needed data to process in order to formulate a strategy. With Asuma-sensei injured and his exhaustion apparent, the Nara had little choice but to defer to the slender woman. She was a variable that he could not account for. There would be a hole in his strategy.

She glanced at him with an indifferent eye before wiping her hands on her stretch-pants.

"Incapacitation."  
He frowned. "We've just tried that."

Naho clenched her fists, an action easily misread as frustration. She was testing motor control. Upon feeling a pinch in her obvious, mechanical fingers, she smiled airily at the Nara boy, waving at him with her disabled hand.

"Aa, step in when you feel you can achieve maximum efficiency."

Then she brought two fingers to her lips and let loose a shrill whistle.

 **/~/**

The moment she stepped up the crass Akatsuki dashed forward with his scythe and she'd be damned if she didn't meet him halfway with a kunai as her means of defense.

Shikamaru watched with a sick sort of twist in his stomach as this Naho woman took on the immortal man with seemingly little to no information at her disposal.

"Shikamaru."

Her movements were like the glare of the sun on glass- quick and sharp and slight and damned if she wasn't _fast_.

It took only a moment for the brunette to clash the kunai and twist so she was wedged within the teeth of the scythe with her- he was going to draw blood, Shikamaru realized, he had to tell her-

But then her left hand came out of nowhere and her forearm slammed his aggressively. It was seconds- he howled, his grasp loosening on the hilt of his weapon enough for Nahoko to grasp it herself and wrench it away-

"You fucking bit-!"

The scythe was hers.

She swung for his head, missed, and recovered quickly enough to send the flat part of her foot into his chest and then stomp down on the solid ground.

The earth shifted beneath her feet as if a dead-weight ton suddenly crashed downward, and he understood immediately that she fought just as the Hokage's apprentice, Haruno Sakura, did. Unlike Sakura, however, Nahoko seemed to fair much better with offensive tactics all aiming to disorient her foe. The technique, though, was there. A separate sort of _clang_ jerked the Nara's attention towards the masked-Akatsuki, who had not taken to sitting still while his partner foolishly rushed forward without thought. Izumo and Kotetsu had rushed with their summoned weapons to the masked-Akatsuki member, causing Shikamaru to bite down on the bottom of his lip.

He needed to recover, formulate a good strategy…

The dark-haired boy felt panic rising in his throat until his sensei spoke again, this time with a wry smile in his scratchy voice.

"She bested Gai in taijutsu. That was… we were kids. Years ago… can only imagine what she's capable of now."

Naho landed a punch directly in the crass Akatsuki's face, forcing him a few meters back with a profound amount of swearing, scythe fully discarded with a gesture that screamed _'like I'd ever need this.'_

Her taijutsu was strange and by watching her offensive maneuvers a bit, Shikamaru determined it was a mixture of types. It did not hold the rigidness of the Hyūga gentle-fist style, but her jabs and strikes were just as sharp and measured. She threw her body into most attacks, much like a reckless sort, but remained in control due to the chakra surrounding her limbs.

 _Dammit._

"OI!"

His _kagemane no jutsu_ wasn't fast enough to catch the immortal man as he lunged for Nahoko, who had attempted to twist out of his grasp. She felt his wretched hands upon her skin- _she failed_ \- sweaty and threatening- _oh Kami_ \- and she couldn't shake his grasp with his hand on her neck and the other grasping her wrists, locking them in place and causing her pulse to race in a panic- _OH MY_

"YOU'LL FUCKIN' PAY!"

His teeth came down on her neck, and Naho felt a blinding shock of pain that jolted to her bones. She exhaled a bare, metallic scream before she threw her body into his wildly, slamming her back into his chest, her fist coming down on what she knew to be the femur and feeling it just _shatter_ beneath the force of her fist-

"FUCK!"

His teeth dragged until she threw him off her, hands now grasping at the _fucking hole_ in her neck as she exhaled ragged a breath. A strangled whimper escaped her gritted teeth. He bit her, wanted to tear her throat out with his teeth…

Something so savage shouldn't have shocked the medic, especially since the man had had his head off his shoulders merely minute ago, but her head was swimming with the clear implications when her knees buckled and she collapsed roughly, scuffing her pants in the dirt.

Her eyes cut to Sarutobi Asuma, who had taken up arms in her absence, the recent Jōnin going to back up his squad leader. She noticed, though, with her warm glowing hands on the side of her neck, that the immortal Akatsuki was not interested in engaging and had his red scythe in hand and she couldn't help but think, 'overcompensating with a weapon,' as her slick fingers found her carotid and effectively halted the bleeding with a substantial amount of chakra-patching.

She uttered a choked sound as she shifted her hand on the wound, watching as she kneeled on the ground.

The Akatsuki was running towards something…

Wide-eyed, she watched as he swung his scythe, too sloppily she hummed silently, and Sarutobi managed to scrape by, ducking out of the way-

It came full circle, the unforgiving blades embedding into the immortal's stomach.

She didn't understand why he laughed derisively and screamed at the now-doubled over Asuma.

What was she missing?

"Finally I get to taste the pain… the pain that'll kill you."

And the younger, dark-haired shadow-user was screaming and Naho only watched with a hand on her mutilated neck as the skeletal-looking immortal produced another foul, spear-like blade, and fully aimed for his beating heart.

 _File it for later…_

Naho's wide eyes hardened as she balled her fist hurriedly, and in one brutal _crunch_ did her fist slam into the ground so hard that if her fingers were real she'd swear they'd be in pieces. She concentrated her chakra so tightly that it arrived to its destination in less than a second, just as the immortal wretch lodged the spear deep within his chest.

 **/~/**

His was blood seeping onto the cloth of the _Shugonin Jūnishi_ that he wore tied around his waist.

Though it was strange.

He was on his knees, the immortal Akatsuki clearly laughing with the spear in his chest but, funny enough, Asuma felt his heart _beat beat beating_ so… clearly-

"What the fuck?!"

There beneath the feet of the Akatsuki was a fissure so fine that it neatly severed the ritual circle that Shikamaru had identified earlier.

Rock spurted up deliberately every which way, destroying whatever the immortal had previously drawn with Sarutobi Asuma's blood.

It was broken.

"YOU FUCKING CU-!"

His words were drowned out as Naho let loose a shrill whistle for the second time- the immortal consequently having to quickly create space between himself and Asuma's form. Another figure appeared in a small _poof_ , quickly dropping a smokescreen so black that Shikamaru nearly choked on his own breath until a firm grip tugged him away.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't think-

When the smoke cleared from his clouded eyes, Naho had her unburdened, navy orbs trained on Asuma-sensei. She popped a small red pill and her hands were emanating a pale green light.

Izumo and Kotetsu, too, kneeled while clutching their throats and breathing heavily. He blinked, struggling in his attempt to sweep their surroundings.

Huh.

 _Was the whistle…?_

They were clumped in a small circle just on the other side of the collapsed bounty exchange facility.

"What…?"

Then where was the other…?

Naho's eyes did not leave Asuma's body, having stripped him of his flak jacket with her erratic movements and made her way under his shirt. He was barely conscious, groaning and flinching and groaning even louder at the movement when she laid hands upon his torso.

"Sarutobi this is going to hurt like hell but if you scream we're all dead."

The dark-haired teen was rarely at a loss. Who in the hell was she? How did she possess any information? Just who had aided them?

As her glowing hands pressed directly on Asuma's skin, the Jōnin cried out deliriously, causing the brunette medic to swear fiercely. Her face was pale and clammy and oh _Kami_ her open flesh on her neck was sickening-

"FUCKING SHIT! THE HELL?!"

His blood ran cold as the sound of the immortal's voice screamed out, but after a few moments of nothing and the distinct feeling of familiar people approaching-

"Shikamaru, we came to help you!"

 _Thank fuck._

Team 10 had arrived.

* * *

Several long, productive years had passed since Kakashi was forced to reevaluate his life.

He didn't dwell on things often, but when he did it was a brutal and obsessive process. Usually, he would find himself standing in front of the KIA memorial when thoughts of war would bombard his mind, unable to stop touching the fabric covering his eye.

His throat would close up occasionally when Rin's scolding yet affectionate voice would sail in his ears, his sensei's nervous chuckles, beryl-blue eyes crinkling at the corners…

Sometimes, when he would open an old scroll and the dust poured out he would think of those ridiculous, wide-rimmed glasses and chuckle at the absurdity of the adolescent Naho. He didn't doubt that she wore them out of necessity as a child, but as the years went on and they grew into their teens he had a mind that she wore them simply out of spite.

He called them ugly, always.

But then he would seize up in the midst of fond memories and remember that they were dead and Naho had disappeared long ago and _they were gone_.

Usually, he would find himself in front of the KIA memorial.

Today he found himself lounging in the branches of a tree adjacent to Naruto, casually observing his student's painstaking training process.

He and Yamato were there mostly to prevent the rambunctious Uzumaki from going overboard now that most of the instruction was over, so his attention quickly slid from his book when a small _poof_ invaded their training field. A stiff looking chūnin reported to attention, mouth grimacing slightly.

"Sarutobi Asuma is in critical condition. Hokage-sama requests your presence, Hatake-san!"

There was overwhelming silence before Naruto intoned roughly, "W-What do you mean critical condition?!"

The blond looked stunned, pale with sweat dripping from the sides of his face as he registered his words. Yamato merely compressed his lips, exchanging a wary glance with Kakashi before nodding.

"Aa."

The disorienting lurch of transporting a semi-long distance had Kakashi wincing slightly as he arrived in the Hokage tower, exhaling a quiet breath.

He stood before the slug Sannin, core tightly coiled like a spring as he watched her run an exhausted hand through her hair; Shizune was quickly listing off a plethora of instructions to a younger and significantly shakier _iryō-nin_ beside her desk.

If it weren't for the shuddered exhale of breath from his immediate right, he would _almos_ t have missed the phantom-like fourth occupant in the room.

She smelled like bitter pomegranates and subtly sweet climbing hydrangeas and heavy old tombs and sweat-

Several long, productive years had passed since Kakashi was forced to reevaluate his life.

Usually, he would find himself in front of the KIA memorial engrossed in memories of mere ghosts.

His heart stuttered.

One crisp, black eye connected with abysmal blues.

This was no ghost.

 **/~/**

He was a blur in the corner of her eye.

 _"An arranged marriage, Naho?"_

Tsunade- _sama_ was muttering to herself, frustrated with the situation, frustrated with the slow progress of Sarutobi's treatment, frustrated with the failure to bloody _slaughter_ the Akatsuki pair, frustrated with _her_.

 _"Mm. That's what the clan wants. "_

It wasn't until her former sensei barked, "Get her to a damn medic, Shizune!" that she felt the full weight of three sets of eyes.

 _He side-eyed her. "And you?"_

She twitched uncomfortably under the scrutiny, flinching slightly when the _iryō-nin_ grasped her arm gently but firmly. She led Naho out of the stifling room, but the chocolate-haired woman barely registered making her way alongside Shizune. Her vision seemed a little fuzzy- when was the last time she ate? Her stomach careened with that thought, with each step and her palms felt too warm and slick but she felt a chill on the back of her neck; the mix of sudden heat and cold made the hallway take a sharp spin, and she tried to blink away the dizziness.

They took a few more steps and entered another hallway where there was a strange wheezing noise that irritated Naho and desperately, she thought, 'why isn't anyone addressing that?' and she felt a hand on her back and a coaxing sort of voice, "You're alright, you're fine."

Her frustration grew and she parted her lips to command that that insistent noise be dealt with-

-a scream tore through her throat.

"Oh _Kami_ she blew her patch!"  
"Shizune-san!"  
"Get me some gauze now! Naho," the feminine voice was right at her ear with a slight tremble, "Naho you're alright. You're going to be alright."

Shizune lowered her to the ground but Naho did not care.

They were in the hospital?

 _She simply looked up at her friend, crinkling her eyes in good humor as he burned a hole through her with that black gaze when she did not answer his query. She did not speak for a good moment, instead readjusting her large glasses and picking at her ramen with her chopsticks._ _She pushed a piece of a beansprout around, latching it to the side of her porcelain bowl._

 _Naho didn't like vegetables._

 _"I would, of course, no longer have need to continue as a kunoichi, nor would my betrothed's clan find much value in a damaged woman."_

 _Damaged, she silently spat._

 _The wear and tear of an active-duty kunoichi simply wouldn't do for a fine bride. She was to be prim, silent, steady. She could not be stronger than her husband-to-be, after all. What would that do?_

 _"You're not damaged," she heard Kakashi snort bitterly and it caused her lift her head from her bowl, the corner of her lips curling wryly._

 _"Self-deprecating does not work with me, Kakashi-kun."_

 _Because Obito-kun was crushed to death and Rin-chan had her heart blown straight through her chest did Naho look into his one eye and understand that he was clearly damaged and even she could only do so much._

 _Still, she was there. She was something._

 _"Damaged, huh," t_ _his time, she mused._

* * *

She woke with a flutter of her eyelids.

The first element she noticed was the smell.

The sterile scent of stinging antiseptic reassured Naho; she had breathed this smell every day for the last eight years.

It was familiar.

Bolstered with a sense of comfort, she attempted to open her lids entirely, squinting even in the dimness of the room. She blinked the crust from her eyes, registering the muted _beep beep_ of a monitor; it created a soothing ambiance and again she was flooded with an immense calm. Cool grey paint coated the walls, small frames here and there and a square white-board lay on the far wall.

She was in a hospital.

Naho released a breath, turning her neck- "Ugh."

It _hurt._

Ceasing her movements, the dark-haired nin brought a hand to the patch of gauze and bandages covering the side of her neck. She noted there was the thin tubing of an IV on the top of her hand.

 _Cut-rate_ , she would have snorted had the movement not caused a sharp pain in her throat.

Apparently she did not need an abundance of drugs; the IV placed in her hand that held smaller veins told her so. Unfortunately, the hand held a greater amount of nerves than the upper arm and therefore it stung with Naho's movements. The beeping on the monitor continued, faster now.

Well, she was awake. Surely that would have alerted the nurses' station. She probably had a few minutes before someone came to check on her. Exhaling a breath, she grit her teeth as she attempted to turn her head again towards the window. Unlike the hospital she worked in, the curtains in her room were thick and did a decent job in blocking sunlight.

Sunlight, though.

It was daytime.

"You're awake, that's great!"

The voice wasn't loud but Naho still winced when she turned, half because of the movement and half because… well… she was awake. The Hosokawa blinked, slightly startled by the fact that the girl had a shock of bubblegum-pink hair. Stepping closer to the bed, the girl's smile remained pasted to her face as she gathered Naho's chart.

"Try not to move so much. We had to graft your carotid artery and place a patch, then a skin graft with your own cells to repair the damaged layers," she smiled at Naho, whose lips pursed in displeasure. Proffering a nervous chuckle, "Your patch had blown by the time I arrived, and Shizune-senpai decided your course of treatment. You were in surgery for a few hours before being brought here to the ICU."

Her _medic_ had pink hair.

Swallowing thickly, Naho grimaced before requesting a glass of water, to which the bright medic agreed excitedly. Once the water glided smoothly down her throat, Naho hummed in contentment. "What's your name?"

If possible, the girl brightened even more. "Oh! Sakura, Haruno Sakura!"  
"Mm, thank you, Haruno-san."

She watched the girl flutter about with a twinkle in her eye, and Naho appraised her excitement. She never worked with an _iryō-nin_ this inspired. It caused Naho to smile slightly.

"So, Haruno-san, what's my chart say?"

Sakura blinked as she finished scribbling a quick note, cheeks flushing as she caught Naho's eye.

"I… Tsunade-shishou should really brief you about the rest. She would very much like to know that you're up. I should inform her." She made to move to the door with a reassuring smile before faltering at the sudden _beep beep beep beep-_

Naho's heart thrummed frantically and she fought the breathless choke and the gasping in her chest-

 _Shishou_ -

"Hosokawa-san?"

Her cheeks felt warm and her IV itched uncomfortably and she wanted to snap-

"Hosokawa-san-!"

She balled her fist on her upper thigh and clenched so hard that the metal of her three fingers creaked and the pink medic said something but she was-

 _"_ _You foolish girl!"_

 _Thump. Thump._

 _Thump._

 _Blood. There was blood running from her nose and her eye was swollen shut. Could she even hear?_

Naho blinked as her vision flashed, the erratic _beep beep beep beep beep_ somehow grounding her enough to demand, "S-Sedate me!"

Or maybe it was the pain in her neck- when had she jerked her neck around to the door?

Her perception flashed again.

 _"…dishonoring everything you have been taught! Shoken would roll in her grave if there were anything left of her body!"_

 _There was blood on her fingertips and she heard the words but they were muted and ringing and there was a bone and she remembered telling herself this is a compound fracture I have a compound fracture I can clearly see the break-_

 ** _/~/_**

"Can you hear me, Nahoko? Look into the light for me. Can you do that?"

She winced when a direct, thin light shined in her left eye, then her right.

The light retracted. "Good pupillary response."

A heavy breath puffed her lips.

"B…Blood…"

Her surroundings blurred. _Kami_ , words were so hard right now. Was she slurring?

"Can you repeat that, Nahoko?"

She groaned. Her skin felt slick with sweat and she felt her hair matting to her forehead, sticking to the sides of her face and the bed. She closed her mouth, swallowed cotton dryly and opened her lips to inhale deeply. There were muffled voices, and Naho closed her eyes tight and struggled.

She was not in a unfamiliar, inadequate body. Not this time. She was not incapable. She would not be worthless again.

She would not be this person of loss and inability _again_.

"F-Fu…"

She would **not** be a ghost.

"Bloody… fucking hell…"

Muffled, but there. She heard a distinctly feminine sigh of relief that was not her own. The voice was older, gruff, drained. But more importantly, she heard a fond, if not anxious, chuckle. It was a deep utterance, reassuring and familiar just as when she realized she was in the hospital room.

 _Beep beep beep._

"I think she's coming to." Her breathing settled as once again her eyes fluttered open. There was a moist plastic hovering over her mouth. Her hazy brain made out the form of an oxygen mask, and her hand flopped on it lazily.

She vaguely realized this time there was a large bore IV in the crook of her elbow.

 _That's more like it._

"Can you hear me, Nahoko?"

Shakily, her bony hand cupped the mask and slid it to the side of her cheek, inhaling independently.

Talk… come on. Talk.

Fucking _speak._

"C-Could hear you… in my sleep… _hag_ …"

She blinked her eyes hazily again as shapes became more pronounced, and this time the scoff from Hokage-sama was clearer. "Stubborn girl." She could have sworn there was a simultaneous watery laugh. Shifting her eyes to the other figure, Naho breathed exhaustedly. She tried her best to level the figure with her tired eyes, struggling to crinkle them without closing them entirely.

She fought the exhaustion.

"Rest. Frankly, just rest, Nahoko. Everything else… everything else later."

Hokage-sama did not have to tell her twice.

She raised and waved her hand foggily to be difficult, but didn't resist when a gloved hand came down to readjust her mask above her mouth. The deep, this time assured, chuckle returned. It was right beside her.

 _Beep beep beep._

If not for the oxygen mask, she would have been breathless at Kakashi's hand resting in hers.

* * *

 _Nijyuu Shoutai- Twenty platoons_

 _Shugonin Jūnishi- Twelve Guardian Ninja_


	4. Calcite I

**IV. Calcite (I)**

 **1.** Is a carbonate mineral

 **2.** All calcites are helpful in lessening of fear and reducing stress

 **3.** Strengthens the ability to overcome setbacks connecting the emotions with the intellect.

* * *

"You look exhausted, Naho!"

Naho trailed her gaze briefly to her booth-mate and offered a quiet grunt, uninhibitedly proceeding to nurse her cooling tea. She tried to ignore the fact that the one sliding into the booth before her had black hair instead of brown, crimson eyes instead of cinnamon.

Flipping a page in her text, fifteen year-old Naho smiled lightly at Yūhi Kurenai and erased the image of her recently-deceased friend, acknowledging the harsh twist in her chest. "I'm charmed, Kurenai-san."

Naho's smile widened a bit when the gifted chūnin barked a laugh before making herself more comfortable. The brunette felt her friend's eyes linger as she searched for the sentence she previously abandoned in the medicinal scroll, something about chakra deprivation with peripheral flow? Orbs slipping once again from the same sentence, Naho felt as if she were being appraised.

"Do you need something?"

She and Yūhi had never been close, not like Rin-chan and Obito-kun and Kakashi-kun. Not a soul compared to those three, not for Naho. However the _iryō-nin_ understood the requirements of basic human socialization and made note to mingle with those of her generation that remained alive. She was not stupid; she knew special attention had been paid to her and Kakashi, especially Kakashi after recent events. It was smart to keep tabs on the emotionally devastated teenagers in the village, after all. Naho understood appearances and remained accessible to her acquaintances and fellow classmates and did not make much fuss. She did not mind her accessibility to the particularly talented ones such as Kurenai and Gai-kun. Hokage-sama's son was not much of a bother, either. The three could be a bit much when all together and sometimes Naho would find her heart searching for her people, his messy mop of black hair or her hundred-watt small with perfectly aligned teeth and good intentions.

She tried to avoid situations like those, easing suspicions of her utter anguish with sparring sessions with Gai-kun or run-ins with Kurenai in the art supply stall in the market. Small doses, she had prescribed herself. Small doses of friendship.

She never knew that the crimson-eyed teenager was so talented with oil pastels, and Naho silently considered that her imagination was probably the reason for her adept skill with Genjutsu. She even went as far to request a piece from the girl as a present for her mum, offering ryo when all Kurenai would take was her company.

Kakashi, on the other hand, completely disregarded any and all social aspects and simply did not care for the worry he caused his fellow classmates.

Naho scratched the back of her head as Kurenai smiled softly.

"Nope, just visiting. Asuma and Gai were around earlier, but I decided to come see you. Knew you'd be here…"

Ah. There it was. Present in almost every encounter with her not-so-but-adequate-friends, Naho did not miss her trailing off once she uttered the location- the quiet teahouse that she and Rin-chan haunted over the years. Humming quietly in assent, Naho kept her eyes trained on the chūnin that seemed to fidget.

"Gai mentioned you've become quite skilled. He's already geared for another spar," she watched the onyx-haired girl chuckle endearingly with a hand to her mouth, looking up as the waitress approached to ask her order.

Naho could tell by the way the specialist's elbows moved that she was fidgeting in her lap, most likely. Her chest rose and fell a bit too quickly for the relaxed atmosphere of the shop; normal respiration rate was around 20-30 breaths per second, and she reckoned Yūhi was counting at about 35-40. She had something on her mind.

Alright. She would allow it to play out.

"Mm. The Hosokawa thought it prudent to improve my skill."

Well, she hadn't planned on lying.

Oh well.

Yūhi merely nodded before proffering a smile at the woman serving her tea, thanking her quietly. "Is that why you're working so hard lately? The clan?"

Ah. So her fellow classmates took notice of her severe schedule in the hospital of late.

She allowed a crinkle to her eyes, "They want the best."

Lies.

The clan did not care in the slightest for this _half-blood's_ skill. They cared not for the lives she strived to save or the ones she held in her very palms. They cared for her as a bargaining chip politically, in uniting theirs with surely another useful clan.

No, the Hosokawa pressures did not take full credit for her decision to _work_. There were many factors at play regarding Nahoko's renewed commitment to medicine, many of which she could hardly utter without a thick lump lodged in her throat.

Had it been the utter hopelessness of Obito-kun's brutal death and the fact that she never found the body three years ago? Or was it as Rin-chan's heart was ripped from her chest by her own friend, Naho was stationed merely 5 kilometers away in a field tent, performing a fasciotomy on another patient?

She felt sick. Weeks ago. Kakashi executed her not five weeks ago.

And she had been performing a limb-saving treatment on a faceless Konoha Shinobi. Limb-saving, when she could have been performing a life-saving treatment kilometers away.

She needed to be the one in the rough for treatment, needed to be useful and better and present. So she began pulling doubles, shadowing heart surgeons and brain surgeons and above all trauma surgeons- any and all surgeons and following around about anyone that would have her in the hospital. When they were available she was there. She even mentioned to her mum that she'd be interested in meeting Shoken's temperamental and irritable colleague, Senju Tsunade-sama. Her current project, though- chakra exertion and its many detrimental effects- was probably the most soul-sucking work she had ever attempted.

"Naho…"

She needed to know chakra fatigue, exhaustion, and stroke backwards and frontwards a thousand times over to even consider her _options_.

"Mm?"  
"We're… worried, Naho. Gai- Asuma and I- we're very… we're worried about you! After what happened… you and Kakashi are always so busy! Kakashi blows everyone off, and you're constantly keeping in the hospital or absent. It seems as if you're pretending that nothing happened!"

Naho reflected on a conversation she recently had with Kakashi about damage and mulling over what exactly it meant to be 'damaged.' It the closest semblance of a normal conversation they had since Rin-chan.

"Kurenai-san…" Naho's voice was quiet but firm, and she leveled Kurenai with a look that she had with Kakashi countless times when he deemed her ideas too dumb to implement. Her deep blue eyes drilled into crimson.

Hum.

Naho was not ignoring events. She was preparing for events to come.

"I am devastated."

She received a regretful grimace, "I-I know and I understand you're-"

"You don't know. You could not understand, and I do not begrudge you for that. I appreciate your concern, but please do not hold disdain for my coping mechanisms. I am doing my best."

Because as she looked at her concerned friend all she saw was where her Rin-chan sat and laughed at corny jokes and loved cranberries and hated the pecan pastries that Naho regularly ordered. She saw where Rin-chan cried about Obito-kun and expressed the complete and utter loss and Naho had watched her friend tear into herself and try to form something real from the tears. She saw a big smile and an understanding laugh when Naho had accidentally mentioned she admired Kakashi too much. And all she felt was havoc in her bones because Rin-chan would know what to do about an arranged marriage and certainly would talk Naho into a sound alternative, like finding a boyfriend or telling her at least to _breathe Naho, remember to breathe and eat and drink eight glasses of water a day, stop looking up chakra fatigue and its effects and stop clawing at your chest the hurt will not leave_ -

 _Damaged…_

"I… I'm sorry, Naho. I didn't mean to…"

She let her friend scramble for words because Naho felt that she deserved to be speechless for a few moments for causing the splitting in her barely-sutured heart. Maybe for the rest of her visit she deserved it.

"Quietly being here is enough."

She did not look for a reaction, instead ignoring the steady _thump thump thump_ in her chest and looked back to her text. Finally, she could comprehend the line she was reading.

 ** _"Extreme chakra exhaustion leads to a multitude of failings within the body, including but not limited to complete system organ failure, slurred speech and impaired brain function, hemorrhage or loss of limb(s) depending on the chakra pathway used."_**

* * *

Nara Shikamaru nodded his head in affirmation on that sunny Tuesday morning in Hokage Tower. With Kakashi-sensei as team leader and Choji and Ino in their usual support, Team Asuma would once again intercept the Akatsuki duo that had nearly murdered their beloved sensei. They would then expect support within hours from Naruto, Sakura, Sai and Yamato.

The support unit calmed his nerves a bit, although worry for Naruto within such proximity to the very people who hunted him caused Shikamaru's stomach to flip nervously. Pondering his team dynamic caused a sneer to cut through his mind, a sneer on an otherwise pretty face with dark blue eyes and an ANBU tattoo- which had yet to be explained, he silently reminded himself.

" _Two chūnin-level chakra… recently appointed Jōnin, one veteran…"_

It was the same compilation of rank, but vastly different skill this time around. He firmly reminded himself of that when panic threatened his chest.

"Hokage-sama…"

There had been no mention of the crafty Hosokawa woman, just comments thrown around in passing of the talent, the prowess-

"Yes, Shikamaru?"

Sakura certainly did not hide her admiration of the abrasive woman and even tried to defend the woman to her former Sensei _._

 _"The fact that she placed a sound patch on a very delicate artery, contained the pain when her throat could have very well been ripped out- do you know how much that HAD to hurt?- AND performed an emergency exploratory laparotomy all the while not exactly teeming with chakra tells me she's amazing! AND Asuma-Sensei lived and is slowly recovering! I would say it's a miracle but it's clear that she's just brilliant!"_ She had all but huffed indignantly as he bumped into her after his visit with his still-unconscious Sensei in the hospital.

He hadn't gone to visit Hosokawa, which he found he began to regret. A quick thanks and at least an update on her condition was the least he could have done, due to the fact that upon her recovery, she would be barred from practicing medicine in the hospital until further notice.

"How is Hosokawa?"

She did save Asuma-Sensei, after all.

If it weren't for his keen eye, Shikamaru would have missed the minuscule shuttering of Hokage-sama's expression. She leaned back in her chair and eyed him carefully; he suddenly regretted voicing his… whatever it was on the matter.

"She is awake, responsive. She will be taken to interrogation and expected a full debriefing on her time outside the village when she is mobile."

He blinked. "Interrogation?"

She didn't mean…?

Her toffee rolled slightly, clearly exasperated with his questions.

"Nothing official. You needn't worry. You should prepare for your team's departure."

* * *

"Your dressing is immaculate, so it looks like the graft has taken marvelously! Let me just get the ointment on there," the tiny pinkette poked her tongue through the side of her mouth when concentrating, "and there we go!"

Naho smiled weakly at the girl that had taken her case, murmuring a small _'thanks'_ before dragging her eyes to the window. It had been a week since her homecoming. She had been confined to this small yet lovely room, feeling a bit woozy when remembering where she was but overall breathing felt natural and warm in her Bubble so that's what she chose to zero-in her focus.

Natural, heart-beat remaining around 55 beats per minute, muted tranquility.

She tried not to let her mind linger on the fact that Hatake Kakashi had very well held her hand upon her first awakening here, and thanked Kami that he hadn't intruded upon her Bubble ever since. She knew he'd appear again; thankfully if that came to pass she learned from swiping her chart that she was on some heavy duty anti-anxiety medications.

She smiled airily when she realized she could probably even hold an ordinary conversation with Tsunade without any internal cringing with the memory of all-consuming pain.

"You'll be discharged soon, Hosokawa-san…"  
"Naho, please."  
"A-Alright, Naho-Senpai," really, Sakura had such a bright smile that even through the fog of tranquilizers could she be blinded.

She cleared her throat, "I just… you are such a paragon in the medical community; I've read your scrolls on infectious pathogens regarding the chakra system and I…"

Naho liked Sakura, she truly did. She was an excellent medic and held very stimulating conversation regarding the body's biochemical responses in response to soldier capsule intake, which not many people could do. But as the bright-eyed teenager's lips split wide open into a full beam of nerves and passion, even the haze of drugs could not fully dull the deep twinge in Naho's chest because those green eyes reflected as much interest and joy as very dead cinnamon ones.

Her mouth went dry and it was not drug-induced. She did not hear Sakura's words of praise and admiration but she knew they were there, unintentionally mocking her in her Bubble. Naho slowly blinked, wondered if she could have become the praying type, just to ease the painful sensation in her chest.

"Sakura, have you heard of 'fool's gold?'"

The tranquilizers made Naho flutter her lids again, navy eyes glazing as they looked through the startled medic and to the closed door.

"Uh…" Great, Sakura. Get it together. "The expression, or…?"

Naho's lips drifted into a smile but she knew it was not derived from joy.

"People often, more than not, mistake a brassy yellow mineral known as pyrite for gold. It's not and once ascertained the finders of this mineral are then left with hollow feelings of disappointment and it is a bitter pill to swallow, to know their expectations are virtually unfulfilled."

Her eyes crinkled and locked with emeralds but her mouth had slipped. To Naho, Sakura was there but because she could not fully connect with her eyes, she found it much easier to voice her caution and urge the intelligent pinkette to reconsider her misplaced praise.

"I would hate for you to make the same mistake."

Naho would not feel bad. She would not sit there in self-pity when the harsh warning left her lips. The drugs helped, of course, when she watched the little Leaf tighten her lips and fight the deep, so deep frown.

She hesitated in her jerky nod.

Naho closed her eyes.

She wished she were the praying type.

"No… no I… I know you're a great medic! I heard how you were so quick and clever a-and I caught Shishou," Naho winced as Sakura barreled on, "muttering about her 'most difficult student!'" She huffed a breath before crossing her arms, "And she certainly wasn't speaking of me."

Naho blamed the drugs for the words spilling from her numb lips.

"What do you think of when you see the injured or sick, Sakura?"

She gestured for the pinkette to take a seat on the edge of her bed, patiently battling the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Dulled from the tranquilizers, no doubt.

"What do I think…?"  
"Mm. When you see someone injured or ill, what do you think? That you should help, and devise a way?"

The bright-eyed girl nodded slowly as she turned upon Naho and frowned a bit.

"Well… yes. I think of where to start and how to help them, but I-"

"In my opinion, that is what makes a great medic, Sakura. There is no debate; you simply do and simply be. Your mind says, that person needs help; I will help. It is a beautiful way."

Her throat itched so she brought her fingertips to the side but Sakura seemed to be growing bolder in her care and speech, immediately batting Naho's mechanical fingers down. She hardly even noticed the metal, instead tossing her Senpai a quizzical glance.

"I don't understand. What do you think, when you see someone hurt?"

The chestnut-haired trauma surgeon crinkled her dark eyes at the younger girl. The drugs- The drugs made her feel this amusement and dread.

"I think… how can this benefit me? How will healing this person be beneficiary for my sake at all? What can they do for me pending their survival? I weigh the risks. Is this person truly worth my efforts? Are they worth the consummation of my time and productivity? What is the survival rate of the procedure I think to perform; how much chakra will it consume and will I be fatigued afterwards? What of their wound or illness, how traumatized will they be when coming back from it, or at all? What is the percentage of injury versus healthy tissue or organs or whatever it is I am working with? I think… when I am done with this procedure will I have enough strength to counter my colleague's scalpel or the multitude of very sharp and capable weapons they have or could have? I wonder if I am able to not only defend my recent project, but myself as well. How will healing this individual in any way assist my endeavors and agenda that is virtually this village's?"

Yes. Iwasaki Gen certainly was a neutral facility dedicated to the sole purpose of healing. All the major villages- Iwagakure, Sunagakure, Kirigakure, Kumogakure, Konohagakure- and even some smaller independent nations employed staff at the Hosokawa funded institution.

It was a perfect residence for Naho because she all but forgot how to live without agitation in her heart.

So she absorbed the dawning realization on Haruno Sakura's face and continued.

"Sakura. I think you are the superior medic here. Tsunade knows all of this information about me, how I operate. I think she has attempted to do me a favor, barring my practice in the hospital. I lived in a general facility that _claimed_ neutrality. But I looked over my shoulder every second of my stay. I would wake up and look to my fellow, my closest colleague and friend, and wonder what the likelihood was if she were to stab me during a procedure or an exam. Daily, it always hovered around 5%. Don't get me wrong, I chose to live that way and work in that environment, but I am so accustomed to weighing risks, cost-benefits analysis with every task I set myself to, that I would hardly function in a friendly environment such as Konoha Gen. Here, my colleagues are not liable to attempt assassination, so to weigh a risk analysis on a patient is deemed cruel and even barbaric. My staff would certainly note my hesitation in treatment, probably catch on to my analysis after a bit. I cannot turn it off; it is the way I have always thought. My mind works analyzing like so, and it can certainly be perceived as cold. That was why I fit so well at Iwasaki, because that is my mind and I will always calculate before I act.

"So, what many perceived as neutrality and the will to heal anyone, criminals and mothers and psychotics and children, is rather my attempt at weighing the benefits to such actions. I will look at a man, woman, or child and I will always weigh the costs versus the benefits in the attempt that I heal them. I have, and can again, turned my back on a dying individual. That certainly does not respect the oath we medics took and swore to uphold. I, however, do not seem to function as a true medic should, so I do not begrudge Tsunade for her decision. I do not like it, but I can live with it. I'm sure Sandaime Hokage-sama would have eventually reached the same conclusion if he had not assigned me to my-"

She paused. Sakura opened her mouth to question her hesitations before Naho continued, locking her eyes with Sakura's.

"…he knew even before I did the environment in which I would flourish. Sandaime-sama did not make a great many noble decisions, but he did right by me, just as Godaime-sama is trying to do. I think that in of itself… is more than enough reason for my compliance and quiet acceptance."

Sakura swallowed. She didn't know what to say or how to respond to such a declaration. It seemed her Senpai did not need any retort, though, because she immediately leaned her head back on her pillow, lids fluttering shut, and scratched the itch on her neck.

Sakura did not stop her.

* * *

"You are certain of this?"

Heavy rain splattered the windows that afternoon as the Godaime Hokage rapt her painted nails slowly against the desk. Her toffee eyes narrowed slightly as they absorbed the thick dossier strewn across her desk.

Nahoko's dossier.

"The Sandaime Hokage and Hosokawa clan seal are both…"

Damn.

That old man…

 _Damn damn damn._

"Danzo…"

At the mention of the elder civilian, Kakashi cut his dark eye from the grey deluge outside, furrowing his brows thoughtfully at the two women. He said nothing as Shizune questioned Tsunade, but observed as the Godaime Hokage grimaced in a frustrated manner before casting her eyes back to her desk. Naho's papers were nothing if not brow-raising.

"He withheld this information until now. ROOT waited to reveal this. Something… someone is benefitting…"

Kakashi swallowed thickly at the genius medic's quiet muttering.

He was reminded of how teenaged Naho would do the same when piecing information together. She would scrunch her face a bit and rub the base of her neck and look immensely irritated. She would keep that expression until she solved whatever it was, and even then he noticed she still looked a bit miffed, as if she always thought she took too long.

She hadn't.

"What do we do now, Hokage-sama?"

He slid his eye to the side, thinking that if Nahoko was standing here next to him instead of Shikamaru and asking that question, it wouldn't sound like a question at all and Tsunade-sama would probably get irritated at the woman's demanding voice. He imagined her standing right there, cutting her deep blue eyes at him and rolling them dryly before crossing her arms and sighing patiently but not before he would see the slight quirk to the corner of her lips-

Tsunade rubbed her forehead tiredly before pinching the bridge of her nose. "There isn't much I can do for her until I speak with her. We know now she has been networking and… acquiring assets for Konoha under the guise of the underground during her tenure at the facility, but the nature of the assets and her sudden departure…"

So many questions about that troublesome student of hers had been answered, but many of those answers only inspired more questions.

How had she even received this kind of task from the Sandaime? Was all of this before or after Nahoko sought her out for aid in her _iryō-nin_ training? And why… why was Danzo informed, and why had he waited until now to reveal this information?

She was going to have a more than just a word with him.

Shikamaru merely stared ahead while Tsunade slowly turned towards the large windows of her office, closing her eyes just for a moment to observe the mild storm. She inhaled a deep breath.

What had Shoken been thinking with that child?

 _"It was logical."_

Nahoko had said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like her passion was an excuse for giving her life away. Like all Shoken taught her was nothing and self-sacrifice was the only method to which saving seemed possible. She remembered feeling so slighted, so blind with rage at the disrespect. She remembered the first hit, breaking the teenager's cheekbone. She remembered feeling pressure on her shins and realized Nahoko was startlingly remarkable with taijutsu and was attempting to disable her, so she had to be serious or the girl would never learn a lesson.

Her voice did not waver, but Kakashi noticed this as a hollow dismissal for the flick of her wrist did not hold much power. "You two have a mission."

He, too, felt the apprehension settle deep down within him and slowly turn his stomach sour as he was dismissed. He simply _poofed_ away in a very predictable manner after nodding at the Nara boy, whose brows had been pulled the majority of the meeting.

* * *

Nahoko felt very conflicted upon her less than ideal return home.

Sure, she appreciated her home and its aesthetic, the fact that all four seasons were apparent but the warm and humid summer was most enjoyable, the monument that Obito would climb and they would eat riceballs atop of and the tea shop her and Rin frequented still on the corner.

There was still an uneasy jerk to her stride, though.

This was where she had been raised. She attended the Academy and its teaching were deeply ingrained into her very bones; the air she breathed felt familiar and humid, comforting her as she was escorted by Dog and Rabbit, two younger ANBU operatives she knew nothing about. It was here that she became an adequate ninja, here where her mum died in that horrible, monstrous attack and where her Pa crumbled like the foundation of the hospital that crushed Oka-san.

It was here where she found her footing in the world of medicine and used her knowledge with ulterior motives, alienating a friend in the effort to take control of her life. It was a decision she had never come to regret, liberating herself from the Hosokawa clan's motives. She always felt a twinge, however, when she thought upon what she had sacrificed to obtain that freedom.

Naho didn't reflect on her time in Konoha often, for her work at Iwasaki Gen really provided her no time for lackadaisical nostalgia. Now, however, as she approached the offices of the Intelligence Division, she couldn't help but look back and wonder _did I really do what I should have?_ She would receive her answer soon, she supposed.

Morino Ibiki would be sure to rip it out of her.

 **/~/**

The afternoon passed in flashes, once she was situated in the room in that cold chair. It wasn't an unforgiving atmosphere, with the three ANBU guards joining her, but it certainly seemed the circumstances could change expeditiously. Dog began quickly, probing her with baseline questions like her name, her blood origins, her Sensei's, all with the firm grip of Rabbit on her shoulder.

Vaguely sensing the flow of chakra, she wondered if this was to detect lies, but she wasn't quite sure because she hadn't worked with many psychological practitioners in the past and there were none stationed in the Iwasaki Trauma Department as of late. She answered quietly while she scanned the vague room, noting the mirror stationed in front of her but behind her interrogator. Surely there was someone behind it. Who would watch, she wondered, the suspect of treason, bribery-

"Did Sandaime Hokage-sama assign you the task to collect beneficial assets to Konoha's force by means unsavory?"

Naho blinked at Dog's porcelain mask, mouth opening once she felt a new pounding in her skull. Unsavory, he said?

"Unsavory…" Her face pulled.

"By illegal means such as blackmail, bribery, aiding and abetting, or coordinating on the black market," he clarified professionally, though unnecessarily for Naho. She blinked again as the pounding turned into an insistent beat-

 _Nineteen year-old Naho stood outside the Trauma doors, arms crossed and fingers clenching the loose fabric of her scrubs. It was a cool, rainy day that irritated Naho because she liked warm, muggy rain and not this refreshing rubbish. Something about the coolness caused her mechanical fingers to itch at their attachment site, and her face pulled in an annoyed fashion._

 _Her surroundings were nothing but green, which reminded her of home, with ivy climbing the walls of Iwasaki and trees towering and framing it comfortably in its own world. She particularly liked the pathway to the Trauma Department's doors, how the old oaks created a natural archway above the beaten path to give it an enshrouded and mysterious feel._

 _Her fingers twitched again as a miniscule shift occurred about fifty meters out; she wasn't the best sensor, but she was learning how to feel about for bodies around the Emergency Room. She didn't spend much time outside the hospital to appreciate the scenery, but she received a disconcerting message via summons two days ago from none other than Sandaime Hokage-sama himself._

 _She'd been deployed for two years and had only heard from him twice since, all from messenger birds._

 _This was different._

 _'Accept what comes,' he had relayed._

 _Whatever did that mean, Naho hadn't the slightest clue. Her first thought was the most obvious, she should expect something to arrive addressed to her at the facility and Hokage-sama was instructing her to take it in stride. But two days had passed, and nothing arrived, so she decided it wasn't so much of a what and maybe more of a who?_

 _Her suspicions seemed to come alight as she felt the very subtle presence approach, until she wasn't feeling for them and instead searching with her eyes plainly. Initially, when she felt the chakra near, it felt as if it all but disappeared._

 _She didn't like that- nobody approached the Trauma Department in hopes of disappearance. Everyone screamed to be noticed at a place like this, usually with copious amounts of blood or broken bones that needed seeing to. But the fact that she couldn't feel anything stressed her beyond words._

 _Something was not right._

 _She let her lids flutter shut as she jerkily yanked familiar and flimsy cardboard from her pocket, reaching for a lone cigarette. She simply held it between her fingers and rolled it before clenching her teeth and muttering, "Kai."_

 _Her surroundings immediately jolted back into place, and she opened her annoyed eyes to come face-to-face with spinning tomoe's._

 _She blinked._

 _Rolled her cigarette again before exhaling heavily and placing it between her lips._

 _She produced her zippo lighter from her scrub-top pocket, silently thumbing the gift from her compatriot addict. She took a drag before holding the cigarette between her fingers, eyeing the bloodied ANBU that lingered yards away._

 _"Itachi," She greeted curiously, though no inflection tinged her voice._

 _He was planted at the tree line and she sucked in another hazy breath, holding it in for a few moments longer before exhaling through her nose. She was silent as he hovered warily, and she vaguely wondered…_

 _Her brows crossed. "Don't tell me…"_

 _Was this to whom Hokage-sama referred?_

 _'Accept what comes.'_

 _Instead of waiting for a reply she knew would be impossible to pry from him, Naho sensed another few chakra signatures approaching. These, however, were swift and didn't bother with subtlety as much as the Uchiha genius had. She rolled the stick again, bringing her eyes from the trees to the thirteen-year old that had noticeably stiffened. That alone alarmed Naho, for she had learned that Itachi was anything but expressive._

 _"Friends of yours?" She asked conversationally, but she didn't really need a reply because she was ready for the three to emerge-_

 _Porcelain masks with intricate, red designs caught her eye and Naho placed a foot forward. Alarmed was an understatement, for she certainly hadn't anticipated the arrival of a disheveled (as can be from that perfect boy) Uchiha Itachi and three aggressive Kirigakure hunter-nin._

 _She took a clean drag before exhaling again. "What do you want."_

 _She noted that they spread themselves strategically to weave around her and Itachi-_

 _Who had appeared by the trunk of the tree she hovered about, she realized._

 _Fast._

 _"We're in pursuit of the rogue-nin. Step aside and your cooperation will be noted."_

 _Naho glanced at the onyx-haired teenager to her right, bringing her cigarette to her lips nonchalantly._

 _He leaned slightly forward. Chest rising, falling… a bit quicker than resting rate, light sheen of sweat though understandable from his journey-_

She cringed when something in her head stung, and she fought to school her expression.

She remembered this.

 _"Mm."_

Was she supposed to reveal this?

 _Her cigarette was lodged deeply, violently in the woman's eye-socket. Blood dripped in rivulets down her cheek and onto her lips._ _The man's neck snapped cleanly, just a crumpled body on the ground._

 _The last, however, was simply incapacitated with a nasty break at his humeroulnar joint. He'd have some trouble flexing and extending his arm for quite some time, she imagined._

She had known, at the time, that the young and likely more experienced Uchiha hadn't needed her help. He could have easily killed them, a bit cleaner she'd imagine. That wasn't the point.

 _Ugh. Accept what comes, huh._

 _"Come on, let's get you cleaned and fed."_

 _She took another look at him before irritably twisting her lips._

 _"You smoke."  
"Brat." _

Was this the day, finally, where she was meant to disclose everything she had experienced? Why then, did she feel this nauseous and terrible feeling? She vaguely thought of Hokage-sama and the lack of her presence in the room. Was she there, behind the mirror?

Who was on the other side of the mirror, if not her?

She wasn't certain that it was Hokage-sama.

Tsunade… wouldn't subject her to this type of interrogation so soon, right? Yes, she reminded herself, her previous mentor was not her biggest fan, but she understood what the body could and could not withstand. She hadn't recovered but a week.

There was another jab, a white hot flash zipping across her vision this time that forced a _whoosh_ of air from her lips.

 _The dim light reflected dully off her wispy, brown hair as she brought the drink to her dry lips, navy blue eyes sharp as she quietly scanned the bar. Her posture was lax, however she could never feel completely at ease in a place such this. It was, after all, a fairly unstable black market location. She had been here numerous times over the years since she had accepted Sandaime's mission, more or less evading her home._

 _Naho did not have the hardened criminal look. She did not flaunt any scars publicly, nor did she possess the crude speech or ill manners that many portrayed throughout her time there. She did, however, have the skill to not only survive, but one could say she could flourish if she were to abandon her village._

 _"Here you are, Naho."_

 _The gentle voice caused her to slowly turn her head back to the bar, where dark-skinned man offered a delicate plate full of mouthwatering rice balls. A grin broke her lips as she hastily plucked one from the plate and popped in into her mouth, eyes fluttering shut with the spicy sweet goodness. The man placed the plate down on the bar before her before lifting his gaze to their surroundings._

 _"It's good to have you back-"  
"Good for business, you mean."_

 _Chuckling softly at her mouthful interruption, Juuya Hakkar brought a large bandaged hand from his pocket, revealing a large, uncut gemstone._

 _"_ _An active Konoha nin isn't necessarily good for business, Naho. But I can say that you do bring a little… sparkle back into my life."_

 _Nahoko snorted in an unladylike manner, nearly choking on her third rice ball._

 _She had been reaching for a fourth when Hakkar slapped her hand lightly, "Do not inhale your food, child-"_

 _She scoffed, "I'm twenty t-"  
"You must enjoy, savor the effort that I so graciously put into this project. If you do not, who will?" _

_Lips twisting wryly, Hosokawa Nahoko slowly, pointedly, bit into her fourth rice ball with ease, blue eyes upturned slightly. Hakaar merely sighed before turning to manage his business, muttering things about ingrates and youth. The recently turned twenty-something simply chuckled softly before taking another sip of her drink, lightly rapping her fingers on the rough wooden surface._

 _The small town proved to be quite boring this time around. Usually she would at least see one brawl here in Hakaar's establishment, but this time-_

 _"Juuya."_

 _Blinking at the deep voice from her right, Nahoko almost turned her head completely to the newcomer. However, instinct told the girl to simply take another sip of her drink, this time a little more slowly as she slid her eyes between the bartender and this new man. Nahoko was not stupid enough to wear her_ hitai-ate _in such a place, however she could not shake the sudden cagey feel as she observed the man casually._

 _He was taller, quite a bit taller than her she noted. She couldn't see his face, for the quick glimpse that she had chanced revealed an obscured mask._

 _Interesting._

 _"Ah, yes. One moment. Your shipment arrived a few days ago."_

 _Shipment. Nahoko's expression was blank as she watched Hakaar retreat into the small doorway behind his bar, however she soon realized that her attention should be elsewhere. There was a growing commotion behind her, namely due to drunken patrons and their shouts of belligerence._

 _"You seem out of place, Naho-chan."_

 _She stiffened. Slowly turning her eyes fully towards him, internally taken aback that he would address her by name, Naho fought her anxiety. She was not in ninja gear, carried no weapons, yet this man clearly knew…_

 _Giving him a slow once-over, she detected no malevolent intentions nor chakra from his being. She cut her dark orbs to the crowd of men, lightly observing the fight seconds away from breaking out. Chakra was thick in the room now, however she knew it was not a threat. Although…_

 _"I enjoy the noise."_

 _Here she could only guess that he was staring, so she warily brought her drink to her lips-_

 _"Here you go. I hope everything is to your satisfaction."_

 _Naho didn't look at the small box that was now in the masked man's hand, nor did she chance a glance when he decided to open it then and there._

 _Odd._

 _Hakaar, too, seemed, if not puzzled, quite perturbed that he would decide to check its contents so close and so openly. It was a well-known fact that Juuya Hakaar was a prime black market merchant, however his transactions never felt so public before._

 _"I-If it is not to your satisfaction…"_

 _Popping her fifth rice ball in her mouth, Nahoko began to feel ill from how fast she had eaten. Either that, or the sudden stutter that Hakaar had just uttered. However, she needed an excuse to turn to this man-_

 _It happened before she could even blink._

 _One moment the masked man was still, and the next Hakaar was falling backwards into a shelf of bottles, eyes wide as he grasped his shoulder in pain. Blood suddenly pooled the ground under his feet as he fell completely into the shelf, clumsily pushing over bottles to right himself. Nahoko felt a little more than ill as she remained in place, swallowing thickly as the masked man then turned his shrouded face to hers._

 _He did not move._

 _Her eyes hardened as blood began to puddle the floor, Hakaar's form raggedly dragging in contrived breaths as his hands flailed aimlessly._

She brought her trembling fingers to wipe the blood from her lip, having sunk her teeth so hard she drew blood.

Did she dare open her eyes to watch the world spin? Maybe she'd be better off keeping them closed, feeling the sharp intruding inside her mind advancing on her huffing form once again.

 _"It looks like an enlarged mediastinum. We're going to have to go in, there's probably a lot a fluid. Grab cardio now- I'm going to scrub. We don't have a lot of time if we want to save this guy's chakra passageway to his heart!"_

 _Nishimura Mara, primary orthopedic surgeon, barked urgently, sweat beading at her coppery hairline as she jogged briskly to keep up with the gurney. Tsking sharply to herself as she all but rammed through the double doors to the scrub room, she rushed to run her hands under the faucets. Regulations demanded that she scrub for at least four minutes, but she did not know if this man could wait any longer. She lifted her bloodshot eyes to gaze into the window before her, the window to the OR where her patient lay. Her team just finished transferring him to the OR table and began to put him under-_

 _Hosokawa had already scrubbed, she noted with a wry twist to her lips. Holding her hands before her, the Iwagakure woman pressed into the door with her back, entering the room with a rushed sort of presence._

 _"Where's Fujishima?" Fujishima Daetsu, arrogant man that he was, also happened to be the primary cardiothoracic surgeon in the facility. But Hosokawa was already preparing a procedure that clearly disregarded the fact that he needed to be called._

 _She repeated her question, causing Naho to narrow her eyes._

 _"Preoccupied, he says."_

 _Nishimura clenched her gloved fists before stepping forward, noting that the patient-_

 _"Missing nin, of course. You always manage to wrangle these."_

 _Naho huffed a response under her breath._

She was sure she wasn't in the seat anymore, because she was shuddering in these deep and painful breaths.

She felt something cool pressed against her cheek but she didn't dare open her eyes. There was so much pain, and she realized there wasn't in the time in the past week or so that she didn't experience discomfort.

Was this her life now?

 _She watched the nin like a hawk, hovering around his recovery room in hopes that he would awake. She knew Nishimura wouldn't bother with him now- the chief of orthopedics had bigger things on her mind, bigger than a rogue nin of Sunagakure. It was perfect for Naho, who lurked and loitered until the first signs of his lids fluttering._

 _She was right there when his breathing settled irregularly and he cracked his lids-_

 _"Do you know why you're alive?"_

She wasn't ashamed, the way she prolonged their lives to extract information from them or to collect small favors. Missing nin weren't inclined to uphold favors in their hearts, but she never failed to remind them that she had saved them, certainly she spared no expense with contingencies to collect on her kindness?

 _Hosokawa Vera gazed at her long and hard, the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes especially prominent when her lips tipped that severely. "You need to get out of there, Naho. He's off the rails."_

 _Her hands were the only thing she saw, though- lacking the chakra to keep the metal fingers covered._

 _They trembled as her mouth opened. "It's the only place I can be myself."  
"What's more important, your life or this conjured freedom of expression?! You can't do that if you're dead!" _

_Her heart stuttered. "He doesn't know I know."  
"Fujishima will slit your throat in your sleep."  
"He doesn't know," she repeated firmly. _

_Her cousin's voice fell in resignation. "It's only a matter of time. And he won't be the only one. That shrouded organization-"  
"Akatsuki is the least of my worries." _

_Vera placed her calloused hand over the mechanics. "I think we both know Akatsuki is not the organization, threatening and covert, to which I am referring."_

 _She couldn't stop trembling._

 _She needed those documents._

She knew, even as she felt the cool palm upon her forehead soothing her burning skin, that she had endured the whole of it.

That didn't dispel the fact that she wouldn't open her eyes, though.

She felt a scorching so severe and scarring on the roof of her mouth that she probably screamed before relief was imminent.

* * *

Kakashi noted the tick mark on Tsunade-sama's head long before her enraged outburst, surprisingly not directed towards Naruto.

 _This time._

His eye slanted to said student as Tsunade roared incoherent phrases about _'that brat'_ and _'I'll kill her!'_ amused at the pallid shade adorning his skin. The eight of them had been reporting in from their mission in deescalating the Akatsuki movement, effectively neutralizing Hidan and Kakuzu.

"…absent so long she forgot the importance of a summons, huh. Fine, fine by me," certainly from that terrifying, twitching grin it wasn't fine.

"Go get her, Shizune!"

Who dared ignore a summons, Kakashi mused silently as Shikamaru and Yamato listed the strategic steps, glazing over details that would be included in the report later in. Being summoned by the Hokage was not a laughing matter. There was a delicate system of message delivery and confirmation, namely for missions and briefings, debriefings and council. When one was summoned by the Hokage, one showed up immediately, time and setting set. There was no tedious paperwork and back-and-forth. The Hokage called, and you came. That was the system.

So after passing along the message for Nahoko to report to her after being discharged from the hospital for a long-overdue mission debrief, the last thing Tsunade expected was a tiny square of pointlessly-expensive paper returned, folded neatly with looping, child-like scrawl.

 _Your jokes need work, hag._

She'd kill her.

"A-Ah, Tsunade-sama…"

He watched, spine stiffening slightly, as Shizune appeared quickly in the doorway.

She had an iron-clad grip on a certain-

"Yes, my favorite student, please do come in," certainly the word favorite was mistaken from her tone, maybe 'loathed' or 'dead last' would have been a better adjective?

"Oh, your jokes aren't always bad, I guess." Hosokawa Nahoko stood casually on the receiving end of one of Tsunade's darkest glares, rubbing the back of her neck with a yawn.

She wore simple Shinobi garb, but Kakashi couldn't help but note how thin she had become due to the tight pants that reached her ankles or her collar bones that jutted from beneath her ratty shirt. With a sweatdrop did he realize that in all these years away Naho didn't toss out her flimsy clan clothes. She was bleary-eyed as she tousled her brown hair with a hand, eyeing the crowded room with a neutral expression.

She seriously didn't mind that Tsunade was about to kill her in cold blood, Kakashi realized with an incredulous, wide eye.

"What do you not understand, Hosokawa… about a direct order of summons?"

Naho's eyes drifted from greeting a nervous Sakura and blank Shikamaru, glancing at Kakashi with-

Those same, crinkled eyes…

"Well after yesterday I thought it'd be helpful to sleep in. Really rattled my brain about, you know?"

At this, the Hokage's eyes narrowed slightly, her voice still tense, "Yesterday?"  
"Yeah… really gave me the routine. At least Morino wasn't there, though. That would have been…"

She shuddered dramatically, face pulling as Tsunade suddenly swiveled in her chair, pressing the tips of her fingers together. Naho's lips twitched as she heard the commanding woman bark a sharp, "Everybody out!"

"Well, couldn't be helped…"  
"Not you, brat! I'm not finished with you yet!"

She halted in her attempts to slide away, grimacing when an uncontained snort of laughter from-

"Oi, you owe me a steamed bun for that snark, Hatake!"

How familiar that sounded.

But the door slammed shut after the group had filed through, leaving a contemplative silence between the two women.

Naho took this time to appraise the office, mindful that it hadn't changed much since she had been there last, aside from the bookcase of completely different scrolls and texts (medical, no doubt) and the bonsai tree that sat on the windowsill peacefully (really, this hag had the patience?). She hummed quietly, aware that the lack of shouting on Hokage-sama's end didn't bode well, however Naho was simply glad that her anti-anxiety medication was working well enough that she could even be alone with the brute.

"What do you mean, yesterday?"  
"Oh? I was under the impression that you were present for the third degree."  
"Cut the shit, Nahoko."

She clasped her hands and folded her fingers behind her back at Tsunade's hard tone, raising a brow at the angered Sannin.

"You honestly didn't anticipate ROOT sniffing me out upon my arrival?"

Her sharp tsk made Naho flinch, despite the medication. There was something about Tsunade that would always make her crawl into herself, no matter how much she tried to move forward. She knew goading her, way back when, was asking for trouble, but she was eighteen and angry and still at a loss at how to continue in her training. Having a Sensei that doubted you every step of the way was exhausting, and finally Naho had snapped at the older woman, taunting her with loss and her perseverance. Tsunade retaliated by beating the snarky spark right out of her.

It was almost like dying, but worse because she lived.

"Danzo was involved, then. I suspected."  
"I thought you would know."  
"Why?"

Her oceanic eyes clashed with toffee-colored orbs, and Naho was reminded of pecan pastries and the sickly sweet taste. The shop was still there, right?

Her mouth felt dry.

"I…"

 _Why…?_

Tsunade watched the brunette wince and pat her palm on her head, mouth trembling as she fought for words.

"D-Danzo… d-d-documents…"

Her brows furrowed, and Tsunade felt so very wary all of a sudden.

"Nahoko?"

Why couldn't she… why couldn't she say?

She felt like there was something very heavy lying on her tongue and she twisted her lips, trying again.

"N-Network…"

 _Blast!_

"I can't…"

Her face felt so hot.

Tsunade frowned. "Enough. Whatever you can't say… you're likely sealed. You'll hurt yourself."

"Oh for fu-"  
"Just… try to tell me what you can, Nahoko."

Her brows were still pulled angrily, but she managed a jerky nod before she stepped forward to sit. She had to remind herself to do her best. She'd do her best, for Sandaime Hokage. He did right by her and she would always try to do the same.

Always.

* * *

When Naho was sixteen, an orange monster thrice the size of a meteor attacked Konoha.

At least, that's how she imagined the size of it.

An evacuation was ordered, but by that time she had improved so much as a diagnostician that she found herself in Konoha General Hospital's E.R., trying her best to remove patients that were mobile. Her mum found her with her hand on the back of an elderly man, glowing pale green as the man walked precariously with the remainder of the evacuees.

She remembered Oka-san's words, _"Go on, Peanut. I'll be right behind you."_

She remembered them as she looked back at the collapsed stone, foundation jutting each and every way with smoke and dust littering her airway. Tears littered her eyes only moments later, a raw scream she still felt ripping through her chest, _"OKA-SAN,"_ and that's as much as she remembered about October day.

She was there for the memorial, roughly gripping Kakashi's hand while hers trembled because Oka-san died, Oba-chan and Yondaime-sama and even her favorite pomegranate stall manager, Shichiro-san, died.

She thinks, later on, that Pa died that day, too.

He was still there, though, wandering the Manor silently, his footsteps no longer echoing to announce his presence as they used to. She remembered that she thought he was a ghost, too, that haunted the halls, because he certainly was no longer living. After a few months, he departed Konoha without many words to return to the primary Hosokawa compound. Naho let him go without much fight, mainly because she just wanted his ghoulish presence free from the shackles Konoha and Oka-san's death forced upon him.

He died weeks later, and Naho didn't blame him.

She remembered his fond smile directed at her mum on that day, the crossword day in the gardens when she chose to understand her Pa for who he was. She peacefully laid him to rest in her chest, gently patting the soil and knowing that there'd be a flower blooming soon in his place.

He did his best.

She still had nightmares about her mum, though, so she tried not to think about that so much. Sometimes she thought she'd seen an arm reaching out beneath the rubble of the hospital, but she knew it was her imagination despite the tightness in her throat.

That was around her seventeenth birthday, she recalled.

…When she decided to utterly wreck her one sound relationship.

She knew, upon Pa's death, the Hosokawa would come knocking to collect on that marriage proposal. It could have been any day. She remembered sitting across Kakashi at her favorite tea shop, watching his black eye stare balefully at her pecan pastry and oolong tea, snidely remarking, _"You have the worst taste."_

She didn't hear him, though, because she just stared and thought to herself _I am going to willingly destroy you._

She knew that a husband from a prominent clan wouldn't take a damaged Kunoichi. She had to do it, and she couldn't bring herself to make a sacrifice (because it _was_ still a sacrifice, even if she was doing it for herself) for anyone but him.

She absolutely adored him. She didn't know if she loved him, because who intentionally destroys the one they loved?

She knew Obito's sacrifice for his team ripped something inside him, and Rin's death had one foot dangling over the edge. His Sensei's death would have been no turning back, if it weren't for her pushing him towards normalcy. But because she was who she was (no man's prize) there was the possibility that after their mission together, he wouldn't look at her the same again.

 _Likely._

She remembered it so well, the day she hurt him.

He wasn't aware, but she joined that ANBU mission because Hokage-sama was testing her ability on an S-ranked mission. Kakashi probably thought she was just a substitute medic, because he said things like _, "Oi, don't get in the way,"_ and, _"Kami, you're slow, Naho."_

It was a straightforward mission, an escort of a black-market merchant (no caravan, luckily) and his son. She stuck near the son for most of their travels, perking up when she felt the approaching chakra of multiple enemy forces. She had to play it right- just enough to cause panic but not enough to actually get them killed, but enough to do _damage._ She thought she could do it, and in the end she succeeded.

However, the repercussions of her dangerous plan resounded heavily in the upcoming years.

In the end, she had used an untraceable amount of chakra to throw Kakashi off balance as he twisted away from a frontal assault (her anatomical knowledge of the inner ear combined with chakra pathways was textbook). Consequently, even the great son of the White Fang couldn't recover fast enough and his arm was nearly severed by the Iwa nin's thin blade.

To Naho's horror.

She almost panicked (she did panic, she knew she did) before she jumped in front of her stumbling comrade (Oh Kami, _that_ wasn't supposed to happen) and defended him with her best taijutsu abilities (not nearly as seasoned as she would come to be, but those days with Gai-kun weren't fruitless).

She sustained injuries of her own but paid no heed initially because the merchant's son was stabbed through-and through, the merchant himself hysterical and Kakashi fading as his grip loosened on his shoulder and blood pooled from the constant flow.

She kneeled beside him, knees touching his leg and fabric of her pants staining red, assessing his injuries and contemplating her best course of action-

"I've got you."

 _What the hell have I done._

"I will fix this."

She intended for an injury of her own as well, something disfiguring that would fend off potential political suitors, but what she received was far worse. All her reading upon chakra exhaustion paid off in the end, for she exerted herself to the extreme of losing consciousness, any awareness, and circulation in her extremities.

She suffered the infamous chakra stroke, lips going blue and fingers completely rid of blood flow.

She ended up losing three fingers on her right hand, and her head was fuzzy for weeks while she recovered.

She became jumpier than usual, and she struggled with small tasks like opening doors and holding chopsticks and _Kami_ she didn't even attempt to write. She had been right-handed and was suddenly incapable of so many menial tasks that she screamed at the slightest irritant, like running a hand through her hair and feeling the emptiness or taking twenty minutes longer bathing herself.

But she never once voiced a complaint.

She screamed and shouted to herself and pressed her lips so tightly together sometimes she thought they'd be thin forever from habit, but she never once said _'why me'_ because she knew exactly why.

She did this.

She had staff in the Manor to assist her, but she was surprised sometimes because she couldn't remember a face right away or place a name and had difficulties pronouncing some words while reading aloud. She suddenly became this person of inability and loss and Kakashi hadn't shown his face not _once_.

She had been willing to sacrifice her life for his (because he didn't know of the plan, the plan to damage herself so severely to escape a life of emptiness) so he couldn't face her and finally tipped over the edge.

She cried so much and found herself crying and screaming at the small things until she realized one day she had traded one life of emptiness for another.

Then she petitioned the Hokage to let her take leave, return to the Hosokawa compound and rebuild herself. It was a leap, was she even considered an asset anymore? But he ended up granting her request, giving her one of his own.

 _"_ _Updates on progress."_

He always believed in her ability to recover from this… mistake?

Even now she didn't know if that's what she'd call it.

 **/~/**

"Ask that perverted teammate of yours. He's got at least half the information. I separated it for security purposes."

Her network of spies she had accumulated over the years, that was what she spoke of to the Sannin. Years spent at the Hosokawa residence where she acquainted herself with Vera, her rogue cousin and support. Years spent as an _iryō-nin_ at Iwasaki (really in and out, traveling to acquire more allies) and in the months where she had trained with Tsunade before it had been blown to hell.

She had so many people, a good chunk unwilling, but she kept the good ones, the sane ones, close and she wouldn't reveal them until she absolutely had to. They were there, right on her wrist, tattooed in a seal for safe keeping.

"Hm, Jiraiya? What's that good-for-nothing doing with your scrolls?"  
"Eh? Come on, you know he's pretty clever with those types of things. Subversive allies and subtle information acquisition. I thought _…"_

 _I thought, the day I heard you had become Hokage, that I better cover my ass or you would condemn me. I thought I need an ally that is her ally, I need him to be my champion when her suspicions are aroused; I need more than just my word_.

"I thought he was the best choice for optimal mission outcome," she finished, nerves lining her tone.

 _I thought if it was just my word, you'd slaughter me._

"I see."

 _I thought that Sandaime Hokage-sama was a smart man and would keep most of my assignment in the dark, and anything of import died with him for deniability. I thought you would think I had lost my ties to this village and slunk away on my own._

 _I thought you'd turn on me, because you nearly killed me once already._

She unconsciously touched the tips of her fingers to her cheek, fighting to remain composed. She had so much baggage, coming home.

Would this place ever feel safe again?

"I'd like a written report of your network; I realize it will take time, seeing how long you were away. I'd like you to report in three days, just to check in. Danzo was bold with his interrogation, and I fear this isn't the last of his involvement. Until we see to that seal, I'm not sure he got everything he wanted out of you."

That troubled her, really, but she just ticked off another thing bothersome about returning home.

"Naho…" The blonde was leveling her with an unreadable look, but Naho couldn't help the twitch of her fingers in preparation anyways.

"Welcome home."

She swallowed.

* * *

She was back.

Thoughtless (was that really the word) careless Naho with her lackadaisical, awkward stride was back and wearing her tattered shirt with the Uzumaki Clan symbol on the back. She was so very different from seventeen year-old Naho, whose bushy hair and goofy smile radiated from kilometers away. This Naho, who he had seen on two occasions now, was… different.

"Forget the stupid book, read the situation! The Situation!"

Kakashi let a smile curl his lips beneath his mask as he ambled up to Ichiraku's Ramen, hands in his pocket as Sakura called out to him.

"Kakashi-Sensei!"

His eyes crinkled, "Mmm? It's so noisy over here."

Sai was feeding Naruto ramen, and it took him a few seconds to replace the ROOT boy and hold the chopsticks out to Naruto, who sulked childishly. He chuckled softly, continuing on the conversation while placing the bowl down.

Eventually he veered seriously, "But remember… the greater the jutsu, the greater the risk to the user."

Mm. Did he know that well.

But as Naruto cut him off to speak, Kakashi caught the smell of pomegranates and the airy floral scent that always accompanied a certain person. He cut his eye to the left, catching sight of wavy, brown hair cutting off at the shoulders.

Her right hand was raised politely, "Tonkatsu, two eggs please!"

Kakashi had to blink at the fact that all her fingers were visible.

She yawned before turning those depthless blue eyes onto him, "Yo," and smiled a different sort of smile than Naho used to, a guarded smile with a different sort of twist to her lips that made him wonder where she had gone to all these years-

"Oi! You're the bow-legged lady who pissed off Ba-chan this morning!"

Bow… legged…

Kakashi merely sighed as Naruto exclaimed loudly, thrusting a finger in the medic's direction. Sakura immediately discouraged his behavior before Naho could indignantly retort, landing a cold fist on the top of his head.

"NAAARUUUTOOOO-!"

"Bow-legged… who's that, hm?"

She swore she could have heard a muttered, "You, obviously," before the pinkette turned to her, smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, Naho-Senpai. Naruto's an idiot."

"Of course," she replied with an unwavering smile, causing Kakashi to furrow his brows as the two _iryo-nin_ casually chatted.

"How are you feeling?"  
"Good good. Everything's tip top."  
"Is that so? I'm glad to hear. Did you know, I recently read…"  
"Oh…? Interesting… I'll have to…"

Were they serious?

He cleared his throat, causing his childhood friend to blink before turning subtly in his direction.

"Did you need something, Kakashi?"

The way she asked struck him, with her eyes scrunching at the corners and lips curling at the edges like she _knew_.

He could play, too.

"Mm? Ah no, just surprised to see your face."  
"Mm." She hummed neutrally, pausing to receive her bowl gratefully.

She took her time with her chopsticks, her fingers precisely moving with a concentration that didn't escape the silver-haired nin.

Ah.

"How do you know Naho-Senpai, Kakashi-Sensei?"

Naho licked her lips as she listened for his response to Sakura's inquiry, not daring to look his way in fear of rejection. She wondered if this was the correct way to approach things, after all this time? She had destroyed their friendship. Was it right for her to impose, plant herself in his way and virtually shout _'deal with it'_?

"We attended the Academy together."

Mm. Neutral. She could accept that. She chewed on her food, stuffing more into her mouth while she overheard, "Huh? That's vague. Were you friends like you are with Gai-Sensei?"

She heard him chuckle dryly. "I wonder if that's the way to describe it…"

Her stomach hurt. She forgot about Gai.

"Haaah? Then-?"  
"Oi, who are you prying into our relationship? Just who are you?"

The teenager had the gall to simultaneously look offended and grin at her. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto! I'm going to be the next Hokage!"

There was a ringing so deafening in her ears that she swore white noise was coming out of his mouth. Really, she should have known this would happen sooner or later. What was he, a third cousin or something of that nature?

Come on.

The village wasn't that small.

She had _immediately_ met Oba-chan's son?

She swallowed thickly, "I-I see."

 _Does that mean…_

She watched Naruto, his blonde head so striking, converse with his teammates before she pushed her half-finished bowl forward.

Suddenly, she wasn't so hungry. Did he know who she was?

"Naho…"

Her eyes cut to Kakashi, who silently shook his head in confirmation of her unspoken question (really, after all this time he knew how to read her). She wanted to cry., but couldn't so she dug in her pocket and placed the bills carefully on the counter, tipping much too large but not caring in the slightest.

Kakashi observed her attempting to flee, eyes narrowing in thought.

"Naho-chan!"

There was more scuffling and scolding, "Don't address her so casually!"  
"Aww, come on, Sakura-chan!"

She already stood to leave, turning her body slightly to the four- three seated.

Kakashi was standing as well?

"What."

Oh no. Her voice lost inflection; she'd have to work on that. She knew it gave her away at Iwasaki all the time, her annoyance and impatience. She really needed to work on it. Naruto, though, only smirked back at her with a confident glint. "Any friend of Kakashi-Sensei is strong. I'm gonna see it!"

That…

 _"You smoke."  
"Brat."  
"It is counterintuitive." _

She was suddenly reminded when ten year-old Itachi had the gall to ask if she really was strong, or was she clever enough to put up that kind of front?

She felt her teeth grind into her smile, "You fu-"

"I'll see you off, Naho."

Kakashi smoothly cut off her curse, placing a gloved hand on her shoulder before _poofing_ them far, far away from that _brat_.

"Ugh," she muttered as she placed her hand against the trunk a nearby tree.

She never liked transporting so quickly; it always felt disorienting. Her body was not made for molecular level transportation.

"Sorry sorry," came his airy reply to her mutterings, and as she righted herself she realized he took them to a nearby training ground.

"Are you, really?" was her immediate dry response.

He didn't reply, of course, but she didn't mind because she let her eyes roam around for a bit, scratching an itch on her stomach. Her fingers briefly bunched in the fabric.

"Are you better now?"

Her eyes flicked to his nonchalant form, which had taken to leaning against one of the wooden stumps used for shuriken training. She absently brought her fingers to her neck before pulling her lips, turning away.

"I was discharged." She plopped down onto the grass, resigning herself to the fast thumps of her heart.

Was she scared, or just nervous? What was there to say really?

 _Too much to say._

She heard him sigh, "Don't make this difficult."

She scoffed, twitching her nose with her eyes fixed on the cloudless sky. Great, they weren't even there to make shapes out of and distract herself. She didn't hear him for a while, but she felt the indentation of his feet and she caught him towering over her. His hair had gotten longer, she noted, but still as strange as ever. It looked softer, too.

"Tsunade-sama said it took a great deal of stress for you to stroke out like that. Is coming home that traumatic?"

She spluttered, "I didn't have a _stroke!_ "  
"Mmm. You did."  
"You make me sound so old!"

Strange that she was able to banter like this. Hadn't she been dreading speaking with him again?

Wasn't she scared?

"You must have been low on chakra, then," he supposed, crouching down so he could see her face clearly.

Her brows pulled at that, her lips tilting. "I was… busy. It was bad timing."

"Mm, like it hadn't happened before?"

Her heart stuttered.

Her fingers twitched uncomfortably.

"That was a long time ago," she mustered.

He was fast. He didn't mess around, mentioning their last… whatever it was.

She focused her eyes on him. She supposed she had to, to get through this conversation. Avoiding look at him wasn't allowing her to analyze him; she couldn't properly deduce how to carefully avoid this without looking at him. She needed… what the fu-

"Does it happen often, expending your energy so much that you're put in a precarious position?"

She looked at him, really looked at him and didn't like what she found.

Of course, he was aesthetically beautiful. She never doubted that that would change.

He was all perfect bone structure, subtle of course, and hard jawline even underneath that mask. His eye was a pitch so black that she could see herself reflected in it, the other covered mysteriously even though she knew what lie underneath. He really was…

"You're not asking because you're concerned about my welfare."

She felt a shift, a coldness settle that she had never felt between them at her not-question. Even in his absence, his avoidance, she had never imagined there was ice. He didn't sigh like she thought he would; he didn't avert his gaze or rub the back of his head like he had at the ramen stand.

He just stared hard at her.

"Tsunade-sama wanted me to investigate how often an occurrence this is."

She felt something sad bubble up within her, freezing her chest before she forced herself to shudder in a breath. He wasn't there asking about her health for her benefit or his anxiety. He wasn't there because she was his friend and he didn't even ask her ' _where were you?_ '

He wasn't…

She shuttered the crushing disappointment- when had she expectations to even feel disappointment? She slowly sat up and gathered herself, allowing her expression to twist with her back to him.

"You can report to _Hokage-sama_ to rest assured, I've my affairs in place and survived the last ten years without _anyone's_ supervision. I fend just fine."  
"You shouldn't address her that way, Naho."

There was an anger so hot replacing her frozen ribcage, and she stood jerkily.

Defend her when she tried to _kill me_ -

When was the last time she had been so angry?

"I…"

 _I knew what I was doing to you. I did this, I finished destroying you._

 _I knowingly wrecked you. How does that feel?_

The spiteful words were stuck in her throat and she tried to cough them out but the only thing that got through was a choked wheeze and she heard the echo of her name. She brought a shaking hand to her temple and let her head rest, wondering if anyone really knew her and how much was in her head? How was she supposed to act normally when she had to carry what she did, alone?

"Who thought I would be the damaged one…"

She stepped away and heard her name clearer this time, his tone quieter. She wouldn't fall for it.

She let the façade fall for a moment and turned back to him, her right hand in plain sight and bared honestly. She held it up, watching how his eyes took in the metal thumb, index and middle finger with an unreadable look.

"I did this. I damaged myself, you ignorant fool. It had nothing to do with you."

 _Lies lies lies._

Why couldn't she be honest-

Because he wasn't on her side, and hadn't been for a very long time, apparently.

She didn't look at his face because she didn't know what would be worse, if it was blank or troubled. Turning her back, she raised the lesser hand once again just to rub it in. "See you around."

Nausea be damned if she didn't _poof_ away.

She felt sick anyways.

 **/~/**

He watched her so small, retreating form stiff as a board.

When she disappeared in a flurry of nothing but floral smells and angry smoke, he allowed himself to sigh heavily and place his head in his hand, sinking to the grass in resignation.

That went well.

Fast. She figured him out fast.

Hosokawa Nahoko…

What was inside of her, to react like she had? He loathed her arrival, but not because he disliked her. It was a self-loathing, a withering hatred for himself as he looked at the consequences of time on her wary form.

Her eyes still bunched at the corners when she smiled, but her mouth hesitated to lift like she forgot how to naturally do it. Like she had to carefully put it into place nowadays. How had it come to that? She was different. Carefully composed, but threatening to burst at the seams because she was so full. Full of what, though?

He got his answers for Hokage-sama.

He felt it a little underhanded, manipulating her emotions like he had. Tsunade-sama was right. She would become unhinged at the smallest provocation. That wasn't good for a field medic, let alone a Shinobi of any caliber. She was already barred from practicing at the hospital.

What would happen to her if she was benched from active duty? She'd been on a continuous mission for ten years.

Could she adjust?

 _Who knows?_

He was pretty sure he knew.

He wouldn't say it didn't bother him, the way he had to handle her, but he got the feeling there was more Naho didn't say than what she did. How much did she carry in that scrawny frame? Was the weight buckling down on her (he smiled a bit at the bow-legged comment because it _was_ true).

 _"I damaged myself."_

She spoke of damage quite a bit before their mission where she had overexerted herself to save his life. He understood what she meant; it was her decision to fix him-

 _I will fix this_ -

So she didn't begrudge him for her efforts. But he begrudged himself, because he almost got another one of his precious people killed.

His last person.

She thought it was okay to endure that much pain for him. What kind of load-

 _"I would, of course, no longer have need to continue as a Kunoichi, nor would my betrothed's clan find much value in a damaged woman."_

Why would those words come to mind, he wondered. She said them a long time ago, in passing at that, with an absent tone. He remembered a lot about her in detail, unsurprisingly. Peculiar, her phrasing.

Was it purposeful?

To his bemusement, and utter exasperation when they were younger, Naho was brilliant. The way she could diagnose a disease or injury within moments of interacting with her patients never ceased to instill some sort of pride in him, even if it was dorky Naho. He wondered how refined her skill was now?

He puzzled… if her mental stability could be improved- how much skill did she possess now, ten years later?

If she really was what he cracked her up to be back then…

 _"Arranged marriage…"  
_ _"And you, Naho?"_

 _Her face, carefully blank, flickered slightly. It was her soulful eyes, the dark color reflecting upon the oolong tea she wasn't sipping at. Of course, though, her dorky glasses covered that up in a heartbeat. But he saw the utter revulsion at the idea._

It was strange, the spark of hope that flared when he wondered if she really did have ulterior motives in her actions that led to their estrangement.

Curious that, instead of anger, he felt but a breathless sort of relief swell up.


	5. Calcite II

A/N: Thanks for reviewing!

 **V. Calcite (II)**

 **4.** **In the realm of relationships, calcite brings its properties of grounding and centering, to make it a stone of reconciliation.**

 **5\. helps maintain a practical balance between the people in a relationship.**

* * *

The infamous toad sage grinned cheekily at his previous teammate, accepting her frosty welcome for what it was. Jiraiya knew Tsunade's true feelings, whether she wanted him to know or not; she was pleased he had returned.

"Maa, maa, Tsuna, you could be more lively. I trekked all this way…"

The Hokage merely _tsked_ quietly, bringing a beige scroll to the man's attention by tossing it his way roughly.

She had waited days for this.

"You've kept her secrets. Impressive, seeing how they just keep piling," her dry words matched the twist to her painted lips, he thought, as he furrowed his brows. He caught the scroll, releasing the weak seal, rolling it out and immediately catching a familiar looping scrawl.

 _Mission Report: 16 December. Contact established with Iwasaki General._

Oh… right.

He cleared his throat, but was cut off by narrowed caramel eyes. "Why was I not informed that you of all people held at least a quarter of Hosokawa Nahoko's so called 'contacts' in your pocket?"

He blinked, forming a half shrug. "Well I'd hardly call them hers…"

The threatening sound of wood creaking had him paling slightly, and he held up his hands in a surrendering gesture.

"Alright, alright! Naho-chan may have persuaded me those names would have been more useful in my line of work than hers. She was right, I've gathered quite the load of information in the years."

Tsunade was quiet, an uncharacteristic trait in the throes of her anger, causing Jiraiya to furrow his brows again.

Feeling the need to fill the silence, "She's smart-"  
"She knows." He scoffed lightly at her severe expression, a soft smile curving his lips.  
"She hardly knows who I am to her. It was strategy to that brain."

Her rebuttal was swift, brows pulled in a troubled sort of way. They always were when the thought of Nahoko crossed her mind. "You have been underestimating that girl since she could walk."

"Now I think you're projecting, Tsunade." His voice lost its lilting tease, dark eyes zeroing in on this woman he had known for years.

 _25 January. Secured experimental treatment from Chief of Orthopedic Surgery. Will impede research if progress in weaponization is apparent._

Was it simply strategy? Tsunade never knew what to think of that girl's personality, calculating one minute and irrationally emotional the next, but one thing she could always count on was the girl's intelligence. It surpassed her own. She could have been a strategist, but with her interpersonal skills, Tsunade knew Naho made choices purposefully, swiftly, deliberately. Considering a mission, Naho chose carefully.

Had it been that way with her as well? Did Naho choose her for self-serving purposes?

Jiraiya continued in her pensive silence, "Naho gave no inclination that she was aware of my involvement with her mother. I'd think that she'd show some type of emotion if she had her suspicions…"

 _05 May. Accepted Trauma Surgical Fellowship._

"Her mission log is concise with a meticulous flow of events. She smoothly… mapped…"

As the Sage raddled on about the acquisition of Naho's assets, Tsunade suddenly grasped that her mission log was a bit too convenient. Her 'established connection' with Iwasaki General… Her stomach rolled as she realized she reported to the hospital just a day after…

 _"I chose and I bled for it!"  
"Bleed… you don't know what it means to-"  
"Talking about blood when you can't even stomach the sight of it, what kind of medic- what kind of KUNOICHI are you!" _

The day after she incited a ruthless violence from her, causing her to nearly put the girl in a coma. She couldn't remember the beginning of their argument that happened years ago, only that she was blind with rage and grief and drunk on the worst sake. Frustrated with Naho's choices, frustrated that she nearly gave her life to save another- her damn Goddaughter… Frustrated that she didn't think medicine was enough but somehow pulled it off and, buried deeply inside of her like a poisonous seed, envious that Naho managed to save a loved one and she could not.

Ungrateful, she remembered thinking when the teenager would fuss about her disabled hand, how she couldn't just accept that she didn't lose someone, she had to _overcome it_ and be whole again.

She nearly jolted at that line of thought, startled with her bitterness towards the now twenty-something year old.

"Tsuna?" She glanced at the Toad Sage, immediately swiveling her chair upon his concerned expression. He knew she wasn't listening.

She roughly cleared her throat, "That girl," she paused, Naho's young and bloodied face flashing in her mind, "…is the most skilled shinobi I have ever met when it comes to human analysis and probable outcomes. She is far more clever than your ability to hide an affair. At the very least she has suspected."

Her tone held a hint of finality, causing the Sage to grimace, thinking of his abundance of interactions with the Hosokawa-Uzumaki girl over the years, all short in length but neutral nonetheless. He never took her deadpan expression poorly. The thought of actually being found out after all those years…

"She's good."

Blinking, Tsunade remained quiet, silently acknowledging that maybe she should've thought that as well, instead of blinding anger. Maybe then she would have sooner realized that Hosokawa Nahoko manipulated their interaction that night and deliberately had herself in need of a hospital in the wild.

She had meant to go to Iwasaki General all along.

"Now… how is the Sarutobi kid?"

 _Bloody hell._

* * *

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Nara Shikamaru shuffled to a halt before the archway- two gnarled trees growing together to frame the entrance of the Hosokawa residence. It could have been charming if someone kept them, but years of neglect seemed dampen their welcoming presence and enhance the feeling that this place was simply uninhabitable, like they all thought as children.

"Nara?"

He never believed the ghost stories.

Glancing away from the overgrowth, Shikamaru's tired eyes landed on the slender form of just the woman he had meant to see. She stepped lightly on the stones laid flat on the ground, civilian clothes hanging comfortably off her bony shoulders.

"Hosokawa," he inclined his head slightly as he stepped aside to let her emerge from the archway, shoulders sagging in relief as he realized he didn't have to bother to look for her on the gargantuan property. Less of a residence and more of a compound, he thought. "Heading out?"

She carried a scroll simply in her hand, and she nodded neutrally at his query. "Hokage-sama called."

The way she addressed Tsunade-sama never sounded right, but he had little interest invested in the matter. He needed her for far more important-

"Do you need something?"  
He blinked, "Aa. I meant to see you before, but we headed out before I had a chance."

He scratched the back of his head as Naho tilted hers before pausing, as if she considered her next movements carefully.

Motioning towards the compound, "I have a moment."

He glanced at her outstretched hand before it fell away, noting that she didn't cover her mechanical fingers even though her chakra had been stabilized for some time. A sign of comfort, perhaps. He didn't miss how she, once again, disregarded Hokage-sama's summons with just a moment's notice, but he did not voice her disregard. Instead, he nodded again and fell into step behind her, expecting her to continue on as troublesome woman usually did, but as they meandered on into the wide expanse of property, she remained quiet.

He cleared his throat, "I wanted to thank you for saving Asuma-Sensei."  
"I see."

Her response was succinct, but her posture didn't betray any sort of emotion. She wasn't short with him due to dislike.

"Aa. His recovery, though, isn't progressing." The very least he thought she should have the simple facts of his comatose state before-

"I know."

He blinked, glancing down at the woman and stepping over an overgrown shrub, noting that her blue eyes were side-cutting him.

"You do?"

The corner of her lips curled downwards. "We aren't unfriendly. I do care about his condition."

She made no mention of a medical interest or information beyond, and despite the neutrality of her tone he saw that she had an open expression. Had she visited him? She beckoned him to follow into an open sunroom, where she sat them at a low seated table with worn mats.

It was here that he handed her the folder.

 **/~/**

Her nails made a faint tap as she drummed her fingers on the table, clipped and carefully groomed without extraneous details. Clean hands, he thought, aside from the years of abusing her privileges as a trusted senior medic in the most renowned medical facility in the Shinobi world. Abusing said privileges for the sake of Konoha, he was reminded.

Still.

She probably didn't feel much hesitation when it came to grey areas anymore, not after years of saving villains just for their practical uses. Practical uses, he almost grimaced, not their good uses.

"Hokage-sama said there wasn't much to be done." His voice was rough, foreign to his ears due to the scratchy tone of grief.

One of those cleanly manicured hands simply gestured for him to stop, palm facing him in a silent plea to wait. Not a single scratch on her hands, even after rending the earth in two before his eyes.

"But you… were there. You are already familiar with his injuries."

The sound of turning pages interrupted him, though it seemed she hadn't paid him mind anyway. He watched her eyes quickly scan, jump from data set to synopsis' beneath her glasses before pausing, raising to meet his. Her meticulous hands slowly closed the folder, creasing it for good measure before patting it once.

She rose, cleared her throat and picked up the folder with her unblemished, controlled hands that didn't seem soft nor worn.

They were not gentle hands.

"I will speak with Hokage-sama."

Shikamaru knew she was not cleared to operate, let alone enter the hospital on official business. But she was right there, they were right there. If she could just try.

They were not clean or gentle hands.

But they were useful hands.

 **/~/**

Naho's morning had started as well as it could have.

She had been able to sheer the overgrowth in Oka-san's indescribably large gardens, finally. She had been tending to the greenery for a few days, successfully avoiding botching her mum's beloved space and keeping to herself. She received her first visitor, though, on the third day of her gardening, spotting his brown hair in the opening archway of the compound.

He stood before the trees that had gnarled together in time with a hand in his pocket, another grasping the manila folder with a determined expression morphing his features. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and his countenance spoke of late nights, she observed upon closer inspection. She greeted him neutrally, naturally, and he stated that he needed to speak with her, but a nagging suspicion caused her to treat the encounter cautiously when she invited him inside to sit.

She had granted his request with little words, merely taking the folder when offered to her.

Closing her eyes slowly, Naho inhaled deeply as she cleared the events from the morning from her mind, flexing her hands and widening her stance before sending a brutal punch into the infused sandbag dangling from above.

Sarutobi Asuma's chart did not bode well.

 _Thump._ Adequately timed. _Thump._ Measured. _Thump_.

His numbers: low, and his chances of surviving another major surgery were very poor.

 _Thump thump thump thump_ -

He was circling the drain.

"I didn't know anyone else used this dump."

Naho swore something furious before she could catch herself, sending another frustrated fist into the bag before whirling towards the intruder. She didn't see him; she could only see Asuma's minimal survival outcome despite her course of treatment, so she nearly snarled, "You're trespassing on private property-"

"This place has been abandoned for years!"

She could see yellow now, so she turned her back and steadied the teetering bag with both hands, her pulse pounding in her ears.

"It's part of my house, you brat."

It was true; the deserted dojo was an extension of the Hosokawa Compound that lie on the southernmost border, withered and tattered from disuse and age. Naho meant for staff to upkeep her old home, but somehow the thought of compound distracted her from surgeries, so she never sent word from Iwasaki General to manage her affairs.

Well, most of her affairs anyways.

"No way! You're saying this is all yours?!" Uzumaki Naruto's loud voice nearly echoed outwards, causing the medic to wipe her brow and sigh. It seemed he had just meandered on in with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

She ignored his outburst, nodding towards the sandbag. "You're here to practice?"  
"Yeah, I come here when…"

She reached for her hand-towel, pressing her face into the cloth and inhaling deeply. However, she paused, lowering the cloth once she realized his voice trailed into silence, catching him with a troubled sort of expression. She recognized that look, something of a sort of hopeless turn to the lips.

It was when she and her Fellow would lose a patient from a grueling surgery, putting all of their resources and skill into a body that would ultimately fail for inexplicable reasons.

"Me too," she acknowledged quietly, causing Naruto to glance up quickly.

She stared for a moment, considered his surprise, and then cleared her throat nervously, gesturing for him to step forward. "Well, come on. There's two of us now, better you than a sandbag for an opponent. I nearly busted it anyways."

 **/~/**

A muffled shout caused Kakashi to pause in his stride, lifting his head towards the sudden spike in a familiar chakra.

Blinking, the twenty-odd _Jōnin_ turned towards the disturbance, identifying a charge in the air-

"Oi, that's cheating, Naho-chan!"

 _"Uwah, that's cheating, Naho-chan! Just wait until my Sharingan comes!"_

The voice wasn't far, just beyond the wall; Kakashi easily jumped and steadied himself, landing on the outskirts of-

 _"The Hosokawa are a mixed lot, famously wealthy."  
"Aa, that's my house over there." What a large, cheeky smile. All teeth and dimples.  
"Hmph."_

There was an open dojo in the wide area, with a focused brunette and brazen blond. Sand covered the floor, a discarded linen bag, particles dusting the air. Naruto struggled to dust them from his eyes as he advanced on Naho, who caught his strike fairly easily, twisting his arm-

 _Poof!_

She deflected another fist aimed from behind and slammed her back into his chest, kicking the bottom of her foot into his knee. Unfooled by the Shadow Clone, naturally. Wobbling, the Uzumaki tried to vault himself over the surprisingly sturdy woman, but she halted his movements with a right sudden twist, flashing her face to his and-

"Ahh!" Kakashi watched, amused, as she boxed his ears, swept a foot beneath his leg, and bounded across the room to not tangle herself with Naruto's flailing limbs in a fluid, spontaneous movement. Naruto, however, refused to remain grounded, bouncing to and racing forward again, causing Naho to twitch her hands before defensively besting the teenager.

The silver nin noted that Naho always allowed contact, constantly deflecting, never dodging, utilizing the force behind Naruto's punches to reverse the momentum and fire it back.

"This sand is nothing!" The blond's exclamation echoed, and Kakashi merely crossed his arms as he watched Naho's blank expression in the midst of Naruto's rush. His student was clearly enjoying himself, but Naho seemed absent.

"I see," her lips murmured, returning abruptly, blue eyes blinked deliberately as she allowed Naruto's forearm to graze her cheek-

She was a flicker as she maneuvered his wrist firmly, her other tiny fist directly beneath his chin and her ankle wrapped around his, anchoring him so he relied on her grasp for balance. Naruto swallowed and blinked before nodding, reluctantly conceding defeat.

She let go as he laughed breathlessly, eyes rapidly moving across the floorboards.

"You're fast."  
"My thanks, Uzumaki. If you'll excuse me…" She muttered, eyes still glued firmly to the ground and lips pulled sharply.

Kakashi watched her step down from the dojo, hand brought beneath her chin and other placed on her hip. Her lips moved as if she spoke-

"Kakashi-Sensei, did you see that?!"

He watched her head slowly rise, and he stepped further into the Compound, waving.

"Aa. She destroyed you."  
"O-Oi she said no ninjutsu! Next time Naho-chan!"

But Naho's gaze was glued on the new arrival, her lips pressed together tightly.

"Feel free to continue, Uzumaki. I've got to go…"

She flexed her hands and nodded and Kakashi, lackadaisically as ever, turned to follow the medic.

He had seen that gaze before, those processing eyes.

 _"I will fix this."_

He followed her lithe form out the gates, matching her quick footsteps.

"Avoiding me now?"

Her cheek twitched; he watched the sweat divert its course down the side of her face.

"All of my actions do not revolve around you," here she side-eyed him, offering a dry look.

"Oh?"

Her blue eyes seemed to continually cut from person to object on the road, and she placed her hand on her previously injured neck, rubbing sweat from her frame.

"Yep."  
"And where are you going in such a hurry, if not to escape my presence?"  
"I have to convince Hokage-sama to let me operate."

Operate.

She seemed hurried.

He narrowed his eye. "Nahoko…" His voice was that of caution, as though it was his place to remind her.

 _Please._

"Kakashi." She reached for his arm naturally, and although he didn't outwardly react, surprise colored him inwardly. There was no hesitance in her persona. Kakashi's one eye connected with hers, and he'd be damned if her expression wasn't completely blank as they stopped beneath and awning.

"I did not nag you about your mental instability when Obito-kun died," she watched him blink, "and I never once, even in justified times, thought you incapable because of your mind after Rin-chan."

He was silent. He was not lacking reaction, however.

"I _certainly_ had cause. Gai-kun requested that I observe you, yet I never doubted your skills. I _never_ -" Her grip never tightened despite her voice, however Kakashi became acutely aware of the warmth of her hand. He interrupted her, narrowing his one eye slightly, "This is not the same."

Her hand only then tightened on his forearm before letting go, hard eyes holding his until she moved forward again. She thought he would leave, but for some reason he remained beside her.

Probably reporting to Tsunade-sama, she thought bitterly.

She cleared her throat, thinking to explain her approach and decidedly avoiding the mention of their deceased friends again. It was a bit low, even for her.

"I was thinking. I use… I'm a kinesthetic learner, I think better on my feet."

Kakashi minded her explanation carefully, watching her speak quickly, as if she did not get the words out of her mouth then and there, they'd disappear in the constant flux of her mind. She did the same thing years ago. He thought it was a hyperactive trait then due to her sugar consumption, but now he stood aware of her intellect. It was her processing mechanism.

She grimaced when she attempted to explain how each movement was a mere option, a figuration.

"Deflecting represented the liver… an ex lap on site- his liver and left kidney tattered, did I miss a vessel or compromised blood supply? Or reversing offensive, a hit was the heart- did I miss any cardiopulmonary symptoms excluding the obvious trauma… how would I treat- avoidance, maybe so much physical damage impaired a critical chakra pathway and is causing systemic organ failure, his numbers are…"

He had underestimated her all those years ago, overlooking her blank stares in favor of believing that she merely lost herself in imagination- a useless thing for a Shinobi of his caliber. She kept around because he thought she was tolerable, helpful at times in her irregular view of the world.

His lips almost curled wryly. If she hadn't mentioned the darkness in their teenage years, he probably would have.

"I have to see, Kakashi. I have to see the damage again; he's going to die regardless. He won't last another 24 hours. She _has_ to see that."  
 _"Would you like some dango, Kakashi-kun?"  
_ "If I could just… Sarutobi would not object, he's bloody unconscious!"

He froze.

"Naho."

She wasn't listening, her lips parting, muttering irritably.

They were at the base of the Hokage Tower already.

"She will listen-"  
"Naho."  
She was a flurry of floral scents, "What."

He observed her determined stance, shoulders squared and lean frame coiled, wispy hair wild and eyes glinting with intelligence he never bothered to acknowledge. Full lips ready to snap if defied- this tiny woman ready to fight.

"Tsunade-sama says he's too far-"  
"We will not know unless we face the trauma."

She was not the girl he had known. And as she stalked into the tower, poised, he did not know what to make of that.

 **/~/**

It did not take long.

Kakashi leaned against the wall, arms crossed and ankles crossed, face slated blank. He lingered for multiple reasons, however witnessing this unfamiliar Naho certainly marked high. He wanted to see this through. His shoulders were tense, however, at the first unexpected shout. He could not help but hear bits and pieces.

Wrathful fragments like, " _You_ nearly killed me… left me there, with a grade II liver… shattered… partially crushed… would have died!" and the swift rebuke, "How _dare_ … insubordinate… your mother!"

But the last was the clearest yet.

"…my mum lived you would be in the ground. I dare you to think…"

Naho exited fifteen minutes later, eyes rimmed red and expression hinting at frustration.

But as he pushed off the wall to confront this gasping stranger, her watery eyes closed and only reopened when a second set of footsteps followed. Kakashi merely blinked at the scene- Naho inhaling a furious breath as Tsunade-sama exits with a purposeful stride, barking orders to a runner. The novel sight, however, was watching Hokage-sama turn to Naho's barely contained form, "We have surgery."

And Naho clenches her jaw and jerkily nods once, joining the woman she seemingly hasn't a shred of respect for.

"Kakashi!" And the Toad Sage beckons him from the doorway, "You heard that, eh?"

But Hatake Kakashi rarely was speechless. He recovered swiftly, unnoticeably. "Aa."

His eyes trailed the two women until they reached the adjacent corridor, Naho's eyes burning his lids.

"Their past is not a pleasant hurtle. I believe, however, this is the right direction."

Their past, he mused silently. Naho's past, more correctly, seemed such a fickle thing.

When did Naho disappear, and this unyielding force take her place?

* * *

 _She didn't have her lucky scrub cap._

 _Konoha medics wore beige, unbecoming suit-like clothing. She thought it restricting, but did not voice her agitation. She normally wore a dark blue cap atop her singularly braided hair. She wore navy scrubs in her department. The deep, soothing blues purposefully slowed the frenzy of her emergency room. Blue calmed the needy, sated the hysteria. Blood merely darkened the fabric, inconspicuous and unassuming._

 _She liked the dark blue._

"I'm almost ready, Tsunade-sama," Sakura murmured, eyes narrowed in concentration.

 _Dark blue caused the pale green light surrounding her hands to emit ten times brighter, pacify her patients because they could see her work, see her heal._

"Alright, the scans are up."

 _Her dark blue eyes flickered to Sakura's minty hands, the light slowly fading away. A gritty hologram replaced the coolness, hovering above the patient's body to portray a more interactive picture. He was bared for the surgical team, insides out for their observation._

"Kami-sama…"  
"H-How…"

 _Naho had her suspicions long before, so she reached her hand to turn the hologram before another physician could. She neatly separated his abdominal tissues, spreading his intestines and diaphragm as if she held a retractor against flesh._

 _There lay the defect, such an innocuous compromise compared to his obvious trauma._

"No way…"

 _Her initial ex lap stalled death, clamping with her chakra externally because she lacked the instruments in the field. She managed to salvage most of his liver, having to discard the one kidney and aiding blood flow to the other substantially._

Someone cleared their throat. Another exhaled heavily.

Naho merely stepped to the table to assist, lifting her eyes to meet toffee colored orbs.

 _It was a first for her, assisting Tsunade in a major surgery. She never thought she'd do it. She never thought she'd have to look this cruel woman in the eye again. Her heart thumped heavily so she breathed through her nose._

"It's his IVC."

 _The inferior vena cava, running along the right side of the vertebral column. Unless this was a field procedure, she'd hardly perform it._

"What a small nick…"

 _She'd call…_

"Good catch, Nahoko. Did you call the blood bank, Sakura?"  
"Yes, Tsunade-sama."

 _It was likely Fujishima Daetsu performed this surgery hundreds of times. She'd call him, as well as Orthopedics Chief Nishimura Mara. This would be their surgery. This would not fall upon trauma alone._

"Nahoko, are you ready?"

 _Damn Fujishima._

 _If he hadn't nearly killed her before her departure, she would have taken Sarutobi to Iwasaki Gen. He would have had a better chance. He wouldn't have been bleeding into his own body for weeks._

"Aa."

 **/~/**

"Asystole."  
"Epinephrine!"

…

"No change."  
"…more!"

 _Clamor, labored breathing and sweat beading at her brow. She felt rather than heard prayers, Kami-sama please, don't take him. Her steady hands hovered, clamping. Breathing. Her breathing returned to normal. She felt fine._

…

"Asystole."

 _Someone swore._

 _Sadly, she had not been shocked by the blaring flat-line of life support machines for some time. If anything, it sounded familiar._

 _Instead, she would flinch when bodies were shocked with a small amounts of lightning-natured chakra, serving more effectively than the outdated defibrillators._

"Call it."

 _She glanced at the clock, swallowing a sigh when she heard a sob come from her right._

"Escort her out, Nishio."  
"Yes. Haruno-san, please."

 _Naho listened for the footsteps to recede, the door to swing shut before parting her lips._

"Time of death: 18:48."

 _The room was still and then it wasn't; that's generally how surgery tended to go. Extra surgical staff would clear out, the lead surgeon would shrug off their bloodied mess of clothing and toss it, ask another surgeon to take care of things, sometimes. Naho cleared her throat, catching Tsunade-sama's eye as she discarded her smock._

"I'll close, Hokage-sama."

 _There was no bite to her words, causing Tsunade to nod slightly and turn._

 _She hesitated, however, with her hand on the door._

"We did everything, Nahoko."

 _Naho, knowing this to be true, busied her hands. She had to care for what remained._

 _He was still a person. In this room, he was still a person._

"Aa. We did."

 _Later she would thank Tsunade for considering the chance, for taking the chance. Now, however, she would stay in surgery, finish what she started, and replay the surgery until she was sure she did absolutely everything necessary. She would apologize to Sandaime-sama, because she and the best medic in the Shinobi world could not save his son._

 _And when she looked Asuma's people in the eye and told them they did everything they could, but despite their best efforts, he did not make it… she needed to know they were not empty words._

 _Goddamn Fujishima Daetsu._

She'd kill him.


	6. Scapolite

Thank you for reading! Sorry it's been quite awhile

 **VI. Scapolite**

 **1.** Group of rock-forming silicate minerals

 **2.** A stone of self-discipline stimulating independence, Scapolite overcomes inertia and self-sabotage

 **3.** It frees up the left side of the brain, increasing analytical ability.

* * *

 **Previously**

 _Time of death: 18:48._

 _"We did everything, Nahoko."_

 _Naho, knowing this to be true, busied her hands. She had to take care of what remained._

 _"Aa. We did." Later she would thank Tsunade for considering the chance, for taking the chance. Now, however, she would stay in surgery, finish what she started, and replay the surgery until she was sure she did absolutely everything necessary. When she looked Asuma's people in the eye and told them they did everything they could, but despite their best efforts, he did not make it… she needed to know they were not empty words._

 _Goddamn Fujishima Daetsu._

* * *

 **.One Week Ago.**

 _Rokuto,_

 _I'm calling in my favor. Urgently._

 _-N_

* * *

"We have surgery."

Lead weighed heavily in Naho's stomach as she smacked the back of her head against the wall. She attempted to focus her gaze as she folded her hands on her lap, blinking away the sight of Sarutobi's cracked chest from the haze of her unconsciousness.

She could see the whole surgery transpire without a cardiothoracic specialist like Fujishima or his pupil Hamase Rokuto. She saw it, clear as day, as she waited patiently for the OR to be prepped, mind still reeling at very real image conjured in her nightmarish state. Hokage-sama's powerful stride was lined with tension as she paced before her; Naho cut her red-rimmed eyes to the floor restlessly.

 _Kami-sama, Sarutobi's going to die. He's going to… Sandaime's kid is really going to bite it._

When was the last time she had slept well, to drift off in the OR hallway moments before such an important surgery? And to have such a nightmare?

There was an eighty percent chance of the scene conjured in her mind to play out, though. There wasn't much doubt.

" _Asystole."_

She was a first responder, renown diagnostician and primary surgeon. She calculated based on her deductions.

She should have…

She saw Sarutobi lying in the Intensive Care Unit, slowly bleeding into his own body. She was then shown his chart by the Nara boy days later in her home. She was so sure it was the inferior vena cava. They needed a cardiac surgeon.

" _Time of death…"_

Even with Tsunade's exceptional skill, she was still a general physician. They needed a damn miracle, or Naho's ace to come forth _now_. With a whole week passing and no word from him, though, it seemed the former was the more likely scenario. Which left them utterly _screwed_.

 _Screw it all, why did I not pay more attention to the bloody heart?!_

Tsunade, noticing the brunette's sudden quiet and glazed eyes, scolded roughly with a sharp _tsk._

"Naho, this is not the time to panic-"

Naho clenched her hands. Cutting the Hokage off, she felt her throat constrict painfully. She was eighteen again, loathing the small presence that returned to her chest every time she was in the domineering presence of Senju Tsunade.

"I did something. Please don't be mad."

* * *

 **.Several Years Ago.**

"How the hell did this happen?"

"It was the Trauma Unit's wing!"

She was there to serve as a witness. Quietly, she observed the five commanders of Iwasaki General yell amongst themselves, tapping her fingers together with her hands clasped.

"How did those explosives get inside?!"

She bit the inside of her cheek as mistrustful glares grazed the room, inevitably targeting her commander with venom.

"Your duty is to patrol your sector!"

It was to be expected, frankly. It was revealed, after a devastating shock, that explosive tags lined one of the operating rooms in trauma's wing. Decimating half the building and numerous staff, explosions of a different kind soon followed.

"Trauma, speak up or face the consequences for treason!"  
"H-Hold on here…!"

Who could successfully place strategic weapons such as those so easily without the commander of the unit noticing, save the commander himself?

"What is there to gain from such bloodshed!"

It unfolded perfectly before her.

"War! He wants war!"

She lifted her hand to pick at the crusted line of blood on her cheek, biting it again as the accusations began.

"I couldn't have…!"  
"And even one of your own was hurt, Adachi! Hosokawa-san nearly died!"

Showtime.

"I'm…" She drew a heavy breath that tragically resembled a sob, letting her voice waver with practiced uncertainty as all eyes fell upon her. "I-I'm unharmed," she tried again, rubbing her ash-cover forearms, "just a bit shaken up…"

Rage erupted yet again from Fujishima 'Cardio' Eito, easily the warmonger of the commanders. Simultaneously her greatest ally and enemy. "Who in the hell did you want in that OR anyways, Adachi!?"

Naho watched her immediate superior sigh in frustration, shaking his head over and over, at a sudden loss. Adachi Kaito was an adept surgeon and served his purpose as an instructor, but Naho _needed_ to move forward in her mission. Becoming commander of the Trauma Unit was the next logical step. And he was not so good with words, not as he was with a scalpel.

She saw Nishimura Mara tap a single digit on her forehead protector which flaunted a worn Iwagakure symbol from across the table. "Don't forget that we learned how to be Shinobi first, medics second, Adachi-san," her voice was dry, matching the twisted sardonic smile curling her lips.

This caused a new wave of shouting from the Shinobi, desperate to handle the horrific event.

Naho knew he could not competently defend his innocence; that was why she did not find the words to defend her superior, knowing in her heart that he did not commit the accused treason against the Shinobi Nations.

She could not say the same, however, for someone else in the room.

Her blue eyes cut to the only other standing figure, silently assessing his demeanor. She silently wondered if Hamase Rokuto suspected her, for his sharp eyes flickered between her and his commanding officer several times during the meeting.

The forward tilt of his stance indicated an anger paralleled in the room, brown eyes narrowed and mouth curled in disgust. Either he was a very skilled actor, or Hamase Rokuto knew nothing of their actions.

Fujishima Eito was a hardened man and a brutally efficient surgeon, sharply charismatic and emotionally invulnerable. He was a terrifying force and the Commander of the Cardiac Surgical unit. Naho knew she'd need leverage if she were to go toe-to-toe with him. Getting a promotion was a step in the right direction.

She needed the Commander of the Trauma Surgical unit gone.

She _allowed_ the attack to commence without a hitch. It was only right that she be nearest to the blast, save who she could. At least. That, and avoid any suspicion she could.

Once again, she let her eyes land on Fujishima as he morphed the dynamic in the room with just a few heated accusations; she needed to watch him before others, observe and file the way he simply commandeered their attention and she was riveted by his control. She thought, as she watched the sentencing without court, that he could even convince her.

She reminded herself to school her face into one of shock as the phrase 'death sentence' erupted from his lips, swallowing thickly. A lone, stripped explosive tag with Kirigakure origins lay in the pocket of her cousin, miles away.

It was Naho's proof of his vicious nature and, more importantly, her silent compliance.

"I think… for the time being… new command is essential as we sort through guilt and innocence."

She caught Hamase's brown eyes locking her into place as Nishimura barked orders, murmurs of assent following with Adachi's utterly helpless plea. Her stomach clenched in anticipation.

"You're the Senior Fellow, Hosokawa-san."

Hamase was an adept surgeon.

"Yes."

As Fujishima's Senior Fellow, he was suspect. Was he complicit as well? Was he just like her?

"Will you accept these responsibilities?"

Did she need to recruit another ally, surely not one with such dangerous potential?

Her eyes hardened. This was her opportunity.

 _Seize it, Naho_.

Her fingers twitched, ready to grasp at her newfound position. It made her sick. She needed a cigarette.

 _Think of Konoha. Think of your mission._

"Yes."

* * *

"What do you mean, don't be mad… Naho- what have you…"

She didn't have to look at Tsunade-sama's expression to know the slow realization crept onto her features, followed by simmering rage. However she looked anyways and watched how her old mentor's brow dipped in confusion, recognition and, finally, her fiery eyes landed on Naho's own form. The brunette opened her mouth, considered for that brief second before she closed it with a quiet exhalation.

She knew the dipped brows and scowl all too well, the look of dawning disappointment and anger. She felt an intimate familiarity wash over her at that scowl directly solely on her person.

Simply producing a scroll from her pocket, she placed it in her mentor's hand before she could be accosted in ways she could vividly imagine.

"I examined Sarutobi Asuma a week ago."

But Tsunade's eyes were already scanning the message, something Naho knew she would. Her mentor was quick to anger, but was not petty. She made it as Hokage for a reason. Information was valuable, never ignored despite the source.

"Even though you were specifically banned from doing just that?"

Naho cleared her throat, eyeing the sudden presence down the pristine hall. He was accompanied by a familiar silver-haired Jōnin and faceless ANBU guard trailing behind. Suddenly, the pit in her stomach seemed in her throat, though much more manageable.

"Yes. I concluded that he needed more than what Konoha could provide," her response may have been a bit breathless as the envoy drew nearer.

She received an obvious sneer this time, from Hokage-sama. "What in the hell have you done?!"

And there he stood, her messengers answered in the flesh-

Hamase Rokuto in all his Cardiothoracic, grinning glory, his Kumogakure hitai-ate shining brightly from his forearm. Adorning both his elbows were the two ANBU operatives, and Naho only watched as he directed a brilliant grin at the scene directly before him, "You really don't listen to _anybody_ , do you, Naho-chan? I've never received the full escort before, so thanks for that."

* * *

"His vessels won't reperfuse if we go that approach…"

Kakashi tilted his head towards the ceiling, squinting his eye at the pitch-black glass overhead. He had heard Nahoko mutter a request to close off the OR gallery upstairs for any potential wandering eyes. Her exact words had been, "We don't need any spectators." He had not missed the quiet hitch in her normally steady voice, either. From what he understood, it was an honor to watch Tsunade-sama perform surgery, and with murmurs of her former student's return, this would have been one to see.

"Mm, you're right. But if we clamp off- we'll be risking restricted blood flow for far too long-"

"He'll lose function from his waist down."

"Forget function, he won't have enough blood supply to his abdominal organs to even sustain his bloody life."

He heard Tsunade-sama interrupt the two younger surgeons familiar bickering with a sharp order before diving in, muttering a string of curses that Kakashi was almost sorry Naho had to hear. Something about the way Hamase Rokuto bumped her shoulder and smiled her way, though, had his eye narrowing on her small figure. She merely nodded to Hamase's teasing, seemingly accustomed to his friendliness.

Kakashi had read enough books and completed enough missions to grasp the nature of his actions; Naho, however, seemed oblivious to his intent.

Interesting.

"Be ready to assert pressure on my count. One, two- yep, great. Alright, I'm ready to perform the blood replenishing technique directly into his circulatory system as you graft, Tsunade-hime. Naho, I'm truly honored to have you assisting today-"

"Shove it, Hamase."

"Yes ma'am."

Kakashi chuckled lowly at her severe tone, lips curving slightly beneath his mask.

Her deadpan personality appeared universal to his- could that be relief?

Curious.

"A guard is supposed to be seen and not heard in these circumstances, wouldn't you say, Naho?"

She paid Hamase's prodding no heed, "Sats are dropping."

"Aa, Tsunade-hime, if you could-"

"I've been cutting into bodies since before you could walk, kid. I know."

"Right, right. I'll try to speed it up-"

Naho's hands seemed to emit a brighter green upon this development, causing Tsunade to narrow her eyes in disapproval. The brunette found her voice before her mentor could brandish her sharp tongue.

"N-No, his body could go into shock with too quick a replenishment. He's been depleting for weeks. We need to steadily increase his volume. As the assist, I'll increase my efforts on the cellular level to help with respiration. If we need a tag-in, page a competent and discrete medic to aid us. This is Sarutobi's kid we're talking about. He deserves the best care we can possibly give, and we're going to do it right."

Kakashi crossed his arms, fixing his eye on Naho's back. Her shoulders were rigid as she had one hand atop the other, palms glowing that soothing mint color that reminded him of earlier days with Rin healing Obito from another failed spar, and Naho soon arriving after a shift in the hospital with her sweets in tow. But that was the past, and now he was in the presence a woman he was slowly becoming partial to with her formidable backbone.

It was hard to reconcile her dark blue eyes from then and now; once deep, dark pools had hardened into almost midnight gems.

"Sats are back up. Excellent job."

"Mmph."

"I can page Shizune, Naho."

"I'm fine, Tsunade-sama."

"Naho here worked 52 hour shifts in Emergency Room on brutal days. I never could understand how she chose a specialty like Trauma. No finesse, and all that potential! You know she caught two aortic aneurysms for me in one day that otherwise would've just shredded the Aorta in a matter of two hours-"

"You talk too much, Hamase."

"What? I'm just bragging on you to your Hokage-"

Their banter was once again cut short but the sudden spike on the cardiac monitor, followed by three more-

"He's got multiple PVCs; he's tachycardic-"

Kakashi nearly stepped forward when there was a surge of chakra from the Kumogakure Shinobi, but Tsunade-sama barked an order to remain where he was. The cardiac monitor flashed more frequently, until-

"Asystole!"

"Epinephrine-!"

It was here, Naho breathlessly realized, it was happening.

Her dream was unfurling right before her. Her mask felt suffocating as she glanced down into his body cavity-

"Shock him, Hamase."

She would not make the same mistake that dream-Naho had.

His brown eyes wasted no time connecting with hers, blinking once, twice- "What?"

"I know you're lightening natured. Shock him, dose with Epinephrine, then hand to me. Now."

He wouldn't respond to normal lightening chakra, Naho pondered; maybe her dream was a premonition, maybe it was nothing, but her gut told her it was more than a dream. If that was the case, she wouldn't respond with the same course of treatment, and she sure as hell wouldn't give up.

"Now, Hamase."

"You heard her, kid. Do it." Tsunade's level gaze was clear, supporting her decision as they removed their hands from Sarutobi's body.

"Alright," making the necessary signs with his bloodied gloves, "Clear!" His hands wrapped around Sarutobi's heart gently, squeezing slightly with just enough pressure to cause a spike on the monitor before more beeping-

"Now for the epi."

Naho was already closing her eyes and inhaling coolly. She had used about 30 percent of her chakra reserves. This would probably put her on her ass.

"Tsunade-sama," she opened her eyes, blinking decisively and swallowing the twitch in her cheek telling her that she was probably about to further damage her career. She watched the epinephrine injection, then connected her eyes with toffee colored orbs, wondering if she'd ever feel anything but apprehension when looking into them. They were slightly narrowing as Naho brought her hands together to create a seal, while Hamase shocked Sarutobi's inert body once again.

"What is it, Nahoko?!"

"You should page Shizune now. I need your help. The graft is failing; we need to regenerate his cells faster, while still replenishing his blood supply at the current speed. Hopefully it'll steady his cardiac rhythms as well."

Those eyes narrowed even further, "And what exactly are you pulling out of your ass this late into a surgical procedure?"

Naho cleared her throat and turned back to Sarutobi, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. It was a difficult technique that she couldn't complete alone; it would take forty percent of her chakra stores just to activate it without the square seal drawn, and she hadn't prepared in the slightest.

 _Oh well._

Trauma required her to change her surgical plan all the time.

Amassing a ration of chakra from her core, she formed the seals quickly and quietly.

" _Ninpou: Chikatsu Saisei no Jutsu!_ "

She didn't dare look to find the anger sure to be on Tsunade's face.

* * *

He never saw them go into surgery.

By the time he and Kurenai-Sensei had been notified, Asuma-Sensei was already under anesthesia.

Hosokawa had come through for them.

His brows pulled, however, when he thought about how she had already planned for this operation.

 _'I know.'_

 _'I do care about his condition. We aren't unfriendly.'_

He should have known, from that spark in her eye as soon as she had read the file, that her raw intellect rivaled his own.

No.

From the Akatsuki skirmish, he should have brought his focus on the brunette ex-ANBU. She let him believe she hadn't acted upon his visit yesterday. He believed she was just now forming a plan for Asuma-Sensei's care, upon his request.

How ignorant.

He glanced at his only teacher, all tubes and machines but _alive._ He survived the surgery- the surgery Naho had, apparently, planned earlier that week. He recalled when his eyes widened as the surgical light blinked off. He stood with baited breath, stepping forward after hours of sitting with Kurenai-Sensei on that uncomfortable plastic cushion. His heart stuttered when the doors swung open, when Tsunade-sama emerged with Shinobi in tow- an unidentified Kumogakure Shinobi in thick, chakra depressing cuffs binding his wrists but a smile curling his lips and Shikamaru almost _lost it_ -

"He's alive."

But he couldn't reconcile those amazing words with Nahoko suddenly emerging with blood covering her front and exhaustion lining her features, and the unknown man being ushered away with four ANBU. Ushered down the hall and out of sight, with the man bickering with Naho like this was a game, like they were friends-

A soft voice had reached his ears, a hand on his shoulder, "Shikamaru. He's alive."

A day later, sitting in Asuma-Sensei's recovery room, the Nara understood that Nahoko had broken protocol and smuggled a foreigner inside Konoha's walls- a foreign Shinobi, of all people. Someone who could have been perceived as a threat ultimately saved Sensei. He shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face as he prepared to rise from his chair just as a wispy chakra haunted the doorway.

Blinking, the boy turned to see the very woman clouding his thoughts standing there in a pair of navy scrubs- nothing Konoha standard issue about them- with her eyes on Asuma. He couldn't make out the expression on her face, but he didn't have to because her eyes flickered briefly before turning to him.

"I'm here for vitals check. I'll be in and out."

She didn't wait for a response, simply gliding into the room and facing his inert Sensei before he could manage so much as a nod. Nurses had been in and out of Sensei's room when it wasn't Hokage-sama herself, checking vitals and managing his care. Something told Shikamaru that she wasn't there simply for her job. He rubbed his shadowed eyes, exhaling a heavy breath and muttered a quiet, "Troublesome."

Naho cleared the thickness from her throat, "I'm very sorry about… if I had caught it in the field, we would not be here. My skill was not enough and you all- his people- are suffering, but I will continue to try. I h-have always…"

Shikamaru was tired- no, he was exhausted. The past couple of weeks had been the most draining he had ever faced. He had encountered death, watched his Sensei nearly die and gone against the Akatsuki twice with little rest and direction. He was utterly spent. He did not want to listen to this woman spill her soul over his nearly-dead Sensei's body. He knew he owed her thanks, but all he could do was exhale heavily.

He could not fathom why she was apologizing when she was the reason he lived.

A sudden, muffled sob saved him the trouble of responding.

His eyes shot open to see Kurenai-Sensei grasping the doorway with one hand, the other hand covering her mouth. "Oh, Naho…"

Stretching out of his chair, he moved to give the woman space and support should she need it, but she seemed fine to move in as she approached the medic- who looked about as skittish as one of the deer in the Nara Forest.

"K-Kurenai-san," she managed, choking a bit as practiced hands peeled the gloves from her bony hands. She rolled her shoulders to attempt to relax, but as the pregnant woman advanced to Asuma's bedside, it gave little room for her to escape, which was, Shikamaru noticed, exactly what she wanted to do.

"You did it…"

"Tsunade-sama did the heavy lifting," she cleared her throat as she inched around the foot of the bed, coming closer to the door and Kurenai-Sensei. Shikamaru didn't know what type of relationship Hosokawa had with many Shinobi in the village, however there was a commonality shared in her demeanor with most of them.

"She wouldn't have operated without your push and you know it."

There was discomfort lined in each of their meetings.

Kurenai-Sensei's red eyes pinned Naho to her place, and before she could move another muscle, the woman engulfed her in a soft, round hug that had the medic stiffening and arms freezing midair.

Shikamaru couldn't hear the words exchanged between the two, but he could see the black-haired woman's lips move; Naho's arms never relaxed. The hug didn't last long, but the atmosphere seemed so still until Kurenai-Sensei released her and turned to her beloved. He watched Naho just stand there for a moment, almost like she had to collect herself, before turning to exit.

Her dark eyes connected with Shikamaru's, and he could have sworn he saw a shine that hadn't been there minutes before-

"She seems short and speaks in succinct sentences when she's upset. She always did that, you know. When we were younger, in our Kunoichi classes, Sensei would think Naho was mocking her because she'd enunciate h-her words and forget informalities in the face of her upset. But she's always tried s-so hard… she's always b-been-!"

He'd blame it on the hormones if Asuma-Sensei literally wasn't on life support right in front of her. Knowing Hosokawa, she probably said something insensitive. Troublesome, that's all he could think, as Kurenai-Sensei sat by the bed and slowly brought herself back down, wiping her eyes with one hand and taking his in the other.

He needed to say something, anything to calm her down and make this moment bearable-

"She's rude," he stated flatly in the absence of an adequate rebuttal, causing a sound to slip from Kurenai-Sensei's lips. A hybrid of a laugh and a sob, the woman gripped his hand a bit harder.

"Yes, isn't she?" But her words came with a shaky smile, causing the Nara to furrow his brows at the woman.

Shouldn't that have been said with a little less satisfaction?

* * *

The last two shadowed figures materialized in the dank cave.

A sharp, "You're late," echoed about, making its way to Uchiha Itachi's ears. He did not react outwardly, but he was tired and had little patience for such trivial reminders. He did not much care for the chatter, either, until the mentioning of the deaths of Hidan and Kakuzu at Konoha Shinobi's hands. Hatake Kakashi and Uzumaki Naruto's, at that. It seemed he was getting stronger-

"That's not all," the scratchy voice of Black Zetsu interjected, piercing his thought process once again.

"Oh? What can be more important than the Nine-tails?"

"My source at Iwasaki-"

It was here that Itachi decided to give care to the conversation, because there was only one person worth mentioning at the revered medical facility at such a meeting.

"…said his medic was called away from a summons in the direction to Konoha. Hosokawa Nahoko resurfaced."

"Eh? Who cares about that silver-tongued broad?"

Kisame, for all his strength and chakra reserve, had never encountered the Hosokawa-Uzumaki combat medic in his tenure. He severely underestimated her role and her loyalties.

"It means," hissed the split personality, "that-"

"Much of the black market is now in the hands of Konoha. Akatsuki has been too conspicuous of late, and with Hosokawa returning, she is a threat."

Leader's commanding voice silenced the bickering, and Itachi felt something akin to apprehension as the topic of Naho came to a close.

"Kill her and any known associates should you cross paths."

There was no thought of her already handing off her contacts to other Shinobi or her country. There was just the kill order.

A flash of amused, deep blue eyes rolling sarcastically _at him_ drifted through his thoughts, and he decided that Naho should not be done yet.

* * *

She received a summons to Hokage Tower five days after the surgery. She was well rested, ate heartily, and the bags had receded slowly from her eyes. She hadn't been to the hospital since the encounter with Kurenai, but she kept an ear to the ground regarding Asuma's recovery. He had awoken once, groggily, but no improvements since. Still, it encouraged his loved ones, so she did not haunt the halls of the hospital. Tsunade, she was sure, had spoken with them.

She need not make things worse.

Wrapping her knuckles against the door twice, she waited for an affirmative to push the cumbersome door open.

"Enter!"

It was only her second month back in Konoha, but she couldn't help but start to form a pattern of thinking Tsunade was a bit dramatic when receiving visitors.

"Aa, I'm coming in."

What met her gaze upon entering, however, was not Tsunade's level stare or even Kakashi's upturned, smiling eye as she had come to expect. Instead, it was as if she had been hurled fifteen years into the past when she came face-to-face with a horrendous green jumpsuit and thick, bushy eyebrows.

Her stomach flipped, but not in the sick, uncertain manner she had experienced since her homecoming. No, this was different-

"Naho-chan, my beautiful lotus has blossomed!"

Her heart thumped feebly as she assessed the changes in Maito Gai's appearance, noting although he had grown much taller, he remained the same dorky Shinobi she had left behind. Her heart warmed at the thought of someone remaining the same after the hardships the years had brought them.

Her lips curved without her permission, "It's been awhile, Gai."

"Yes, yes, it's a beautiful reunion that can be saved for later."

Tsunade's amused yet somehow ever stern voice floated to her ears, saving her from she was sure some type of physical onslaught of affection.

Blinking, the twenty-something medic stepped further into the room and beside the beaming man, "You summoned, Tsunade-sama?"

The woman in question grunted before returning to her paperwork, "You've been back for a little under two months, and I've reached the decision to put you on active duty. With all our resources pointed at Akatsuki, you cannot be spared. However-" Here she cut her eyes to Naho's, and if she expected an adverse reaction, she did not receive one. "Before you go anywhere representing this village, you will complete a week-long reconditioning regiment designed by Gai and a mental evaluation by me to see if you're fit for combat duty. Any objections?"

Glancing back at the hulking figure giving her an obvious yet encouraging thumbs-up, Naho merely shook her head and avoided those piercing brown eyes.

"Thank you for the opportunity."

* * *

She was wondering when he would make some sort of mention of where'd she been, how she looked, or something of the type.

"You should eat more, Naho-chan! Us taijutsu users need to keep our strength. You need to take care of yourself!"

She was wondering.

"Mm," she hummed in assent, inhaling the fresh air as they stepped out of the Tower and into the afternoon sun. She tilted her face towards the sky and let it wash over her, letting Gai accost her again.

"And plenty of rest! Those dark circles are unbecoming of any blossom!"

"Aa," she appeased, still in a bit of shock that Tsunade-sama made no mention of their previous surgery or the fact that she nearly succumbed to chakra exhaustion yet again. She went in expecting some type of suspension, or worse, stripping of any or all privileges. Instead, she was granted active duty combat barring a week of reconditioning?

"…eat right now, Nahoko. You need your strength to complete your 1,000 laps around Konoha today-"

"Aa-"

"I think your training can wait an hour, Gai. I need to borrow Naho."

Blinking the sun spots from her eyes, the brunette brought her eyes street-level to find the lazy stance of Hatake Kakashi. One coal-black eye bored into her own, and she scarcely heard Gai's exuberant greeting to his eternal rival before Kakashi extricated her elbow from his, _poofing_ them away to a nearby stall- coincidentally out of the Green Beast of Konoha's line of sight.

"OOOIIII KAKASHI!"

Unable to contain her quiet snort of laughter, Naho didn't quite realize how close she was to the man until she was forced to tilt her head up-

He was already looking at her.

There was a warm pressure on the small of her back.

"That wasn't very nice, Kakashi."

He was silent for a beat before smiling slightly, backing away from her and she found she missed the heat that radiated off his chest, the hand on her back.

"You could do with some food," he dodged lightly, to which Naho merely raised a brow before gesturing for him to choose down the market.

"I am but a humble follower."

"If I remember, you would eat anything, eh?"

He turned his back before she could retort to such a comment, cheek twitching in irritation.

He didn't walk for long, and even chose a setting outside. Had he noticed her enjoying the weather? Probably not, she thought, as she took the seat across him. He simply wanted to enjoy the weather as well. She stretched her legs diagonally as she ordered an Oolong tea, smiled lightly before loosening her expression and once again tilting her face upwards.

"So, what's the occasion?"

"I can't simply have lunch with a friend?"

She let a deep sigh escape her lips, relaxing her posture even more. It took effort to relax, and she was sure Tsunade's mental evaluation included taking her off her anti-anxiety medications, so Naho was going to make the most of the week and try to remember her psych rotation, starting off with the basics such as concentrating on her breathing, as well as stress management and relaxation. What better way to start than to practice with one of her biggest stressors sitting directly across her?

"Honestly, Kakashi…"

"Asuma's recovering."

That was quick.

"Aa, I'm receiving regular updates."

"Kurenai-san says you only made one appearance?"

Naho opened her eyes at his curious tone, if only to gauge his expression. Which, of course, was half shrouded by that tedious mask anyways, so she could only settle for looking into his black eye.

"And?"

"It was an impressive surgery. I would think you'd check on him in person is all."

She could feel her jaw tensing, and if she felt it, she knew that this clever and irritating Shinobi before her could certainly see it.

"If you have something you would like to say, Kakashi, please come out with it," came her terse response, her posture now sitting up instead of slouching lackadaisically. Her fingers flexed as the waitress brought out the tea and asked for their orders, Naho having no time to debate on what her stomach desired, only feeling it turning in irritation. Just what were his intentions?

Was this another assignment from Tsunade? But she had just seen her, surely she could have asked? She wanted to demand right there, but the waitress' eyes were on her and-

"Your house dango, please."

"Yes ma'am, thank you."

She gave a pleasant smile until the woman trailed away, pinning her gaze-

"Sweets for lunch?"

"I'm in no mood. What are your intentions here? Haranguing answers from me about patient care-"

"The way I see it, there is no patient care."

She nearly choked. Furrowing her brow, she tried to hide the hurt that suddenly flared in her chest as she brought her eyes to Kakashi's, which remained stoic as ever.

"Excuse me?"

The man remained calm, bringing his hands together and leaning forward.

"I observed you three perform a seven hour surgery that wouldn't have happened had not been for your obstinance and absolute boar-ish demeanor when it comes to advocating for the patient, and again in the OR when the procedure was failing. It was your idea that ultimately saved Asuma's life. You couldn't complete it, and I understood that Hokage-sama was upset at the time, but even she wouldn't have let you start the seals if she didn't have the faith that you-"

Oh.

Naho couldn't listen… she thought she murmured for him to stop, but he just kept going.

 _Oh Kami-sama_.

"Hokage-sama believed in you, and she wouldn't let you exhaust yourself like that again. She recognized that seal. She's the best medic nin in the world. You are the reason he is alive, your genius and nobody else's. You deserve to be there when he's lucid-"

"Enough, please," came her small voice, and she knew he heard her this time.

She swallowed thickly, her face drawn and chest rising and falling shallowly. She reached for her tea to occupy her hands, sipping slowly and counting meticulously in her mind to find some semblance of control. Carefully, she placed her cup on the table, staring at the hard surface that now housed their food. She hadn't even noticed.

She wet her lips, not daring to bring her eyes to his.

"I have never cared… about something like credit. I will be happy to receive word of his lucidity. Regarding the procedure…"

She should just lay it out there. How could she ever hope to recover with so much baggage?

She felt her cheek twitch in dry mirth at even the prospect of recovery.

Yeah, right.

All the deep breathing in the world couldn't help her.

"I am terrified of Tsunade-sama. My fear of her almost held back my analysis in the OR. To me, her being there was an obstacle. I think… I think she will always be an obstacle to me."

Kakashi couldn't help but furrow his brow at this as he watched the complete transformation of Naho from earlier this afternoon. Once relaxed, almost smiling to hunched and withdrawn, speaking as if she feared for her very life- from her very own Kage.

"Naho…"

"I have something to tell you, Kakashi. You… deserve to know."

He blinked, nodding once as she sat forward, suddenly bringing her eyes to his once again. They were the darkest blue, hardening by the second, but he could see a lining of remorse weighing heavily. She placed her right hand on the table, tapping her mechanical fingers obviously.

For his attention.

"We knew the attack on the Haru merchant would happened; it was inevitable and that's why you and I were there, correct?"

He nodded once, warily because she brought of something long buried, before she proceeded in a rushed manner.

"I was assigned to that mission to test my skills to see if I was qualified to become an addition to an ANBU squad, namely as medical support, not just as a substitute that day as you thought. My…"

Here she swallowed, grabbing the stick of dango and shoving some in her mouth before she could lose her nerve, chewing to collect her thoughts and staring hard at the table.

"My family, prior to this, had arranged a marriage for me to a respectable man to a respectable clan. You know, the works: rich, good stature, politically right. Packaged prettily and ready to go. Pa died earlier in the year so… it was time."

She chanced a glance, noting that the silver-haired nin didn't betray a single thing.

 _Blast._

She continued, "I am responsible for… I caused…"

She couldn't get the words out, and without receiving any sign from the man before her, she stuck the last piece of her lunch in her mouth, feeling ill. Digging in her pocket, she set enough money out for the both of them, hoping to _Kami-sama_ he didn't notice the trembling in her fingers.

"You wear sleeves, so I have not seen. If there is a scar, I am happy to rid you of it. I caused it, after all. I can do it even after all this-"

She was withdrawing her hand before he reached out in a flash, grasping her mechanical fingers and all tightly, as if she would slip away if he let go. Maybe she would.

She cut herself off, blinking down at their conjoined hands, hers still trembling, his almost steadying if it weren't for the vice-grip. She didn't mind, though; she couldn't feel it in three of them anyways.

"I have an early mission tomorrow, but I would like to discuss this further when I return."

There wasn't an inflection in his voice, which troubled Naho, but she supposed she deserved it after what she put him through. She probably just destroyed any chance of rebuilding their friendship. His grip was not steadying like she wanted; it was probably angry, hurt, anything along those lines. Her last precious person alive, and this was what it came to. Her chest felt tight, making her feel small again, but she managed a nod at his detached persona.

"Aa."

And as fast as he caught her hand, he let go.

* * *

 _Ninpou: Chikatsu Saisei no Jutsu -_ Ninja Art:Healing Resuscitation Regeneration Technique


	7. Moss Agate

Thanks for reading! Here's an update! R&R!

 **VII. Moss Agate**

 **1.** Moss agate is usually formed from weathered volcanic rocks.

 **2.** Enhances mental concentration, persistence, endurance and can be used as a talisman for increasing the effectiveness of one's physical workouts

 **3.** Provides us balancing the capability to be ourselves in the environment; it manages what we hold and what we defy.

* * *

She watched him scrutinize her and she forced herself not to squirm under his stare, subtly taking his cue to follow suit in his analysis.

Her eyes only briefly flickered over the deep scars running along the entirety of his face, instead choosing to focus on the broadness of his shoulders, his muscle mass, the hard set to his jaw-

"You're the one who gave the bounty hunter assist such deep pockets, then."

She remained silent as she bored a hole into Morino Ibiki's forehead. She frowned slightly, paused with her examination to nod. So Konoha acquired Zangei and Ibiki got his secrets. She supposed she should have anticipated that act.

She followed a small movement that she belatedly caught in her periphery, eyes sliding to the second impressive mass boxed in the tin-can with her. She knew him as a passing acquaintance, from a life so long ago that hers of now, patchwork and scrapped as it was, could not compare to the rose-tinted integrity of the past. She doubted he knew her aside from her file, this Yamanaka Clan Head.

"Hmph. Alright, let's start with how you left that place. That _neutral_ hospital," barked Morino, causing Naho's blue eyes to wander from the stoic Clan Head.

She couldn't help but tilt her head at the tone- curious, her eyes narrowing a fraction, that an ounce of hostility could be directed at her? What could Ibiki Morino possibly begrudge her for? She'd never met the fellow, as she'd never taken an interest in psychological tampering and hadn't socialized with those older than her in the Academy. Wartime didn't give them much time in the Academy regardless, but the sentiment remained.

…She really managed to step on a lot of toes, returning home, now that she thought about it when as she grazed his face yet again. All she had done was complete a mission, save a life-

 _Ah._

The thought pounded her skull.

She'd wager if it had anything to do with Hamase entering the village illicitly by her hand. Speaking of… where were they keeping him, that Kumo nin with a figurative heart three sizes too big?

Hopefully somewhere clean, she knew he valued sanitizer and showers above all else, even food. That was something she could not wrap her head around.

Blinking, Naho realized she'd taken too long in her head to sort her thoughts.

Bringing herself to nod a little too slowly, she fought a wince when she felt a foreign sense of chakra against the base of her skull and her temples, and she shuddered a breath.

She was truly disinterested, passionately, in psychological warfare. The mind was a precious, generous, and wonderful reserve that should never be considered a target. She'd seen those broken physically- beaten bloody, she recalled her eye swelling shut and a fear of losing function due to broken bone fragments, swallowing her fear and bile, disgust and utter disappointment.

…She'd overcome that.

But the nightmares, the mentality when she'd seen some fight and beat the genjutsu only to never recover…

Her eyes, this time, cut sharply to the Yamanaka. She recalled considering his intrusive technique rude, with that innocuous, slated expression before her head ached something fierce and she couldn't form a coherent thought anymore.

 **[~]**

Her hands were deep inside a man's chest when she heard the hollow echo of his footsteps approach.

Almost like the hollow vacuum of his soul, she thought sourly as she peered up from the bloody crater of her patient to lay eyes on her senior cardio consult. She had to suck in an extra breath to keep her peace.

"You didn't page me urgently for a perforated ventricular wall but opened him alone? What's the meaning of this, Hosokawa?"

Just for a second, her hands wanted to shake in barely contained rage.

It was a rainy, muggy day and it irritated Naho's joints already, but it also made it easier to spot Jiraiya-sama's toad summons that morning when she stepped out to await the oncoming trauma.

He never sent her things. Ever.

He was an absentee affair that her mum had had long ago and, to that end, an effective handler for her garnered assets to Konoha. She gave him names, scrolls upon scrolls of people and places and _cities_. Their arrangement was that he did not send her anything.

Quite frankly, it unsettled her when she glanced at the odd-looking toad that morning.

Unsurprisingly, then, the scroll the toad all but vomited ranked high on her list of important things. Right next to the steaming cup of coffee she had been sipping.

 _"Oi, Swamp Lady!" She shot the orange toad a withering look, catching the regurgitated scroll it slapped her way._

 _Silently mouthing 'Swamp Lady?' as she perused the sealed paper, she narrowed her eyes at the rude summons._

 _"You smell like your summoning contract! Don'tcha ever take a shower?!"_

Yes, in fact, yes she did. It would be unsightly to walk around the hospital with patients' blood spattered on her all the time, she had wanted to bark snidely, but the toad had hopped away before she could spit the words at the ugly thing. It seemed Jiraiya-sama was familiar with the notorious Fujishima from the Second Shinobi War. She was almost grateful she wasn't the only one.

Nose twitching beneath her mask, Naho quietly tempered her hands, trying to push the information from her mind. She was a surgeon, and although her hands were glowing bright green with her energy to heal this man, she could ruthlessly kill if she so much as slipped. So Naho breathed deeply and let her hands feel the warmth of this man's organs. It took time, mere seconds, but as she cauterized bleeds and repaired tears in the man's intestines, Naho could feel reason returning to her and let the searing, volcanic hatred she felt for him abate and she found her voice.

Simply nodding her head, "Hamase is here. He is a cardiothoracic surgeon, no? That hardly qualifies as alone."  
"Don't snark me, girl-"  
"I could not place a patch, Fujishima-Senpai… and this tissue is too friable-"

Naho swallowed a quiet sigh as the two medics battled back and forth over the cardiac care, trying to drown out their voices to the rhythmic beeping of the patient's ECG that Hamase paced. At least he had a steady rhythm for now, despite the bloody mess of a torso he possessed.

"Just don't do anything else… I'll scrub in. Bumbling…"

There was a heavy silence, thick with embarrassment from her cohort as Naho kept working. She didn't chance a glance at her colleague, trying to give him privacy, but she could feel his eyes as she worked on the man's abdomen.

"I've got this, Hamase. There's no need to stick around for a lashing. This man's a missing nin anyways- I'm the one who has to handle the paperwork regardless of survival. Fujishima can survive without you."

She still didn't look up from the bloody mess, instead asking her assist to suction and decidedly keeping her eyes away from the abashed surgeon. She placed a hand over the patient's chest and let her hand emit a brighter green, inhaling deeply as she finally noticed movement away from the table. She heard a low, poor excuse for a chuckle before a shoulder bumped hers gently.

"I owe you one, Naho-chan," came his quiet, but quirked murmur.

 _She blinked_.

Fujishima stood opposite of her, both hands squeezing the nukenin's heart. Except…

"Hamase said a pericardial patch didn't hold."  
"Rokuto is a Fellow. I am the commander of the department. You focus on your duties. Is that blood in IV-?"

 _She blinked_.

The nukenin was crashing, she unceremoniously ripped her hands from his open abdomen and performed compressions, little lines of sweat beading at her brow and Fujishima was _livid, his chakra pulsating._ She had been at this for an hour and a half, two if she had counted intake- hadn't he just arrived? This was her patient-

"You're letting him escape, you fool!"

 _Escape?_

There was no getting this one back. Senile old man, she thought, he'd dying, not escaping.

"Time of death: 7:38."

She wiped her forehead with her upper arm, scrunching her brow at the sudden manic expression of the cardiac surgeon-

"He arrived in terrible shape, Fujishima. Looks like an explosive tagged him in the torso-"

 _She blinked._

There was always a chance where their colleagues would attack one another. It was always there, what with warring villages with different agendas working in such proximity. They had all been in wars against one another before. Their namesakes were the First, Second, and Third Great Shinobi Wars, for stars sakes. Hostility was a lingering worry, always.

So when she caught the glare of movement just shy of the operating table, Naho's brain clicked and she maneuvered her stance on instinct to protect her most vital organ, synapses firing from surgeon to combatant before her expression could even change beneath her surgical mask.

Fujishima tore for her _heart_ with his chakra scalpels.

 _She blinked._

The nurse and her resident lie gutted on the floor and her chest ached but she had deflected the initial attack, a deep laceration adorning her collar bone with blood gushing from the wound.

She choked a slow, snarled groan as she pivoted, flickering out of sight with blood trailing not far behind.

 _She blinked_.

She would have fought, oh she would have loved to scrap that man to _pieces_ , but her office- she had a scroll she could not jeopardize. Hakkar and Vera and _her plans_ -

She stopped dead when her eyes recognized red against black, red as the blood flooding through her fingers as she pressed her contaminated hand against her wound. Red clouds in her office. She gasped harshly, the breath escaping her lips in a strained hiss.

She carefully pealed her gloves away from her hands, discarded them haphazardly, then her mask absently. Her eyes trained upon the figure as it turned slightly, as if she intruded upon _their_ office, that expressionless orange mask from Hakkar's bar years ago boring into her skull as she slowly, deliberately, clenched her hand into a shaking seal.

"Your space is impeccable, Naho-chan."

She could only sense her own heartbeat, her own breathing, only her chakra as she attempted to seal the skin over her clavicle, beginning first aid and ignoring the chance for infection. The two floors above the ER were empty- unusual for this time of day, and Naho struggled to reconcile what that meant for her emergency medicine colleagues.

 _Probably dead._

 _Dead, you know it._

She stepped closer, swallowing as she entered the office and sealed the door with her hand, remaining poised.

The scroll. She had to get that damn thing. All of this was wrong, so very wrong. Their commanding cardiothoracic surgeon was not only working on the Hosokawa dime performing questionable procedures that she **finally** had concrete proof of thanks to that loafing Toad Sage, but he was working with the Akatsuki?

"Fujishima is roaming. Did you set him loose?"

 _She blinked._

"Maa, Naho-chan, you don't look so good."

Red and black was whirling and she hadn't a shred of a thought.

 _Spinning._

She was choking, but there was nothing around her throat and she realized it was inside and she was so dizzy-

 _Is this genjutsu_? _Why can I see still? Conscious?_

She had to get. away.

The wall caved in on itself as she _thumped_ feebly against it and she threw herself against the crater opening she created and there it was-

Humid, jarring night air as she fell.

 **/~/**

Her head felt warm, but it wasn't horrid like last time and she certainly didn't feel any such scarring on the roof of her mouth.

"Are you with us, Hosokawa-san?"  
"…Yes."  
"That's encouraging. Ibiki-san…"

Encouraging.

 _Feh._

The male voice was kinder, but Ibiki _had_ set the bar _pretty_ low. She wanted to keep the insulated warmth in her head for a little bit longer, too.

"I didn't detect any lies," she heard the rough voice of Ibiki bite out, almost as if he were disappointed he wouldn't be using any of his sharp tools this round. There was a low buzz of an intercom, perhaps, followed by the commanding voice of Senju Tsunade. "Let's break for lunch."

Naho visibly flinched.

Strange, Yamanaka Inoichi silently mused when he caught the minuscule yet harsh movement with his sharp eye, following her tiny mannerisms as she collected herself by touching her fingertips to her temple. Strange, indeed, that that would be her reaction to Hokage-sama all but proffering an unnecessary relief to their superficial prodding.

He hadn't even truly begun to trudge through that mire of damaged chakra coils residing in her brain. He'd nearly started inside her muddled mindscape, the haze of past and present urgency so prominent that he could feel even his own pulse quicken at the glance of incomprehensible information and slivered memories.

He stood cordially as the slim Hosokawa slipped through the door silently, carefully noting that her rush did not seem forced, recalling his near hysteria inside her mind. A seemingly polite slip was all she offered.

His eyes narrowed.

That kind of damage was not unprecedented. However, no one, not even a pupil of Tsunade-sama, the greatest _iryō-nin_ in the world, should have that refined chakra control to support that kind of coil damage during advanced surgery. Hadn't she _just_ assisted in, from his understanding, bringing Sarutobi Asuma from the brink?

What the hell was going on?

* * *

"Naho, my blossom… you have become much more 'hip' in your beautiful age. Have you been writing to my Springtime Rival in your absence?!"

Blinking sleepily, Naho halfheartedly furrowed her brows at her Master for the week, gripping the steaming cup of coffee for warmth and strength. Strength and tolerance, she reminded herself. "Hip?"

She watched the man nod way too assuredly for 0400 hours, early morning still dark and brisk and not at all what Naho enjoyed. If she was awake this early it was for surgery and purpose, not training and theory. "Yes! Your hair in the braided knot speaks of discipline and mastery. Your clothing… well, it is certainly good to train in. It is not armor, but it is flexible! And flattering! You are ready to win hearts and win for yourself all except…"

Naho preferred her coffee black. It wasn't for taste, but because it was most convenient to make in the bustle of the emergency department. Unlike many of her senior medic colleagues, she did not make her residents fetch coffee for her during procedures or consults. Some thought she was soft, but Naho held caution and simply preferred her coffee without poison, so she kept her consumables in her owns hands. Even with other Konoha colleagues, she would politely decline their generous offers to brew her a cup.

Returning home, that was another box that needed to be checked off. She put a hesitant tick in her mental list as she considered her lunch with Kakashi the previous day. She had eaten food that wasn't prepared right before her eyes; that had been done. She nodded to herself as she looked at Gai, who was still rambling about looking and feeling your best, and when you felt your best it was the pinnacle of youth and hard work. She sipped her coffee.

 _Yep._

That had certainly been checked. It wasn't _all_ that had happened, but she had eaten.

Noticing her melancholic, glazed eyes, Gai paused in his tirade in respect of hard work and the Flames of Youth. Smirking, his hand suddenly zipped as quick as a lightning-natured nin and snatched her cup from her faux fingers, "Did you know that 16 ounces of coffee has 700-"

"What the hell!"  
"Caffeine is not the correct stimulant for my dear Naho-chan!"  
"WHO is the medical professional here?!"

Alas, Naho could only watch as the muscled man poured out her precious kickstart to the morning in one fell swoop. She closed her eyes in defeat as he rattled off the evils of caffeine on the cardiovascular system. Somewhere during 'what havoc your brain probably experiences, Naho-chan!' though, a small smile curled the corner of her lips.

But that was before he had her scale the Hokage Monument without Chakra.

Fifty times.

 **/~/**

Sometime after her physical conditioning for the morning, Naho found her feet at the doors of Konoha General Hospital. Her lips slanted into a frown, however, when she found that she could not enter. Kakashi's voice, so easily, drifted in her ears.

 _"Lack of patient care_ …"

She stood; she didn't know for how long, but she knew she wasn't alone.

The muted flare of chakra told her so.

 **/~/**

"Enter!" Tsunade didn't look up from the letter Shizune had her sign, however upon hearing a muttered, "Troublesome," her brown eyes zeroed in on her visitor.

"Ah, come in, Shikamaru. Did I interrupt your visit with Asuma?"

Shuffling into the office, the Nara patted down a yawn and shook his head in denial. "Nah. He's still only awake for short periods, if that. He started to ramble about weird stuff, anyways…"

He kept his face blank when the woman smirked, uttering a small chuckle. "Hmph. Cut him some slack. He's had a tough time… Anyways, the reason I called you here…"

He followed the tapping of her manicured nail, crossing his arms as he stepped closer to her desk. His brows furrowed over a familiar dossier, bulkier than it had been the first time it graced their presence.

 _Hosokawa Nahoko._

If he hadn't had years of practice keeping a stone-cold expression, he would have scoffed.

"A potentially advantageous Asset of hers has called upon Konoha for assistance. I'm giving this mission, and by extension her, to you. Though I should warn you… we don't know much about this Asset, Shikamaru, or her relationship to them."

She pointedly omitted Nahoko's ongoing interrogations with T&I, keeping a blank mask when the thought of her potentially damaged coils rose like a treacherous snake from the grass.

"Then why respond at all, Hokage-sama?"

Strategically, it did not make much sense. To save a variable by putting known allies at great risk. There was more to this that she let on, he presumed with a small frown.

At this inquiry, Tsunade stood slowly, clasping her hands behind her back and slanting her lips.

Heaving a breath, "Because Jiraiya has confirmed through several sources that Akatsuki wants this man dead."

 **/~/**

She scratched her bandaged wrist lightly when she felt the spot above a certain tattooed name sting, _hmphing_ in acknowledgement as she lounged beneath the shaded canopy.

 _Uh oh._

She'd check the tattoo when she was done here. That entailed extracting a bit of chakra from it to read the message that Hakkar sent. Hopefully it was just him checking up on her, but her stomach rolled uneasily in contradiction when she supposed that Hakkar never sent trivial messages via his fuinjutsu calligraphy.

Her skin prickled when she had the distinct notion that she wasn't alone again, her expression cagey as she glanced-

She feigned a yawn upon the approaching footfalls, "I must confess, I am a little nervous to spar with you after so long. My last fight didn't go so well."

"You are the image of youth, Naho-chan. Embrace the aura and you will feel the righteous volcano of vitality after!"

A nervous chuckle slipped from her lips, knowing that in her ratty Uzumaki clan shirt and scuffed shoes, she did not promise spirit and paint the picture of a woman at the zenith of her youth like Gai described, but she couldn't help but crinkle her eyes at his merciful words. He had a way with them, at least. That hadn't changed.

She had been wrong, however, when she first saw him in Hokage-sama's office thinking he hadn't changed. She took a good look at him now, squinting up at him as he offered a gentlemanly hand, calloused from years of training to overcome obstacles of his own.

She wondered what pushed him to train that hard, to leave his hands that blistered and bruised so much that it would scar so obviously. Who was he trying to reach-

 _"Let's just play rock paper scissors. We have an early day tomorrow."  
"Whaaat?! I have all this energy, Kakashi! We need to let loose!" _

_Ah._

Swallowing thickly, she took the hand she had been studying and let him haul her up.

"Thank you."  
"Of course! It's the end of your strength and endurance focus- don't fret, my friend. One thousand laps are still in store for us every morning! But now we move on to the next segment- hand to hand."

Her gaze was on their hands, unbroken in their hold. She couldn't feel most it because it was her artificial one, but she wiggled her fingers a bit to break the connection because it was suddenly harder to swallow and she wasn't _going to cry_ because Gai held her mockery of hand and didn't see anything wrong. Maybe he even saw a little bit of strength instead of what she had come to know.

"Magnificent…"

She cleared her throat, flexing the mechanics.

She pulled her lips into a clumsy smile. "Don't go easy on me, Gai."  
"I would never do you the disservice, Naho-chan!"

 **/~/**

She remembered the flicker of a younger, whimsical thought.

 _Gai-kun is fast._

That same thought briefly crossed her mind after she relaxed her shoulders and settled into her defensive stance, pursed her lips and exhaled her breath-

A green sleeve forced her head backwards with the force of his forearm when she clumsily dodged, and that was the start to Naho's intricate footwork to avoid the barreling force of Maito Gai as he slammed forward.

She vaguely wondered, as she glided her palms beneath his wrist and planted her feet so firmly in the mud that she kicked up water to harshly flip his weight against him, if he realized that he had already hit her face three times-

"FWAH!"

She had concentrated chakra to her arms in a blink, uttering a small _oof_ as she seized Gai's muscled forearms and flipped him, jutting her hip to fuel her own momentum.

"Nah-!"

She immediately offensively fired by crashing her heel into the ground, channeling her chakra so the ground exploded around his body and her mouth twitched a bit that she drew second blood.

She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

 _"I… I bruised a beautiful maiden's face! Please forgive me, Nahoko-chan!"_

Her eyes crinkled in a way that made her chest feel tight.

"Y-You have not slackened, Naho-chan! So quick, like the rippling water-"

She deliberately pressed her other foot onto the ground with precision, heel-to-toe, and fought a wince at the uttered, "Guh!" before the man _zipped_ up with scuffs and dirt lining his clothes and… her mouth twitched.

"You have mud in your hair, Gai-kun."

Konoha's Green Beast smirked, and Naho momentarily mused that it'd be a shame to bruise _those_ cheekbones before he launched himself into her.

Ouch.

 **/~/**

"We will resume tomorrow morning, my student," the brunette's cheek twitched upon the sharp thumbs up she received, and she nearly winced at the blinding glare that Gai's teeth seemed to emit. But despite her lack of caffeine intake and the headache that pulsated between her eyes and the annoyance that stemmed from it all, a small ache took root in her chest at the thought of leaving his enthusiasm hanging.

Once again proffering her quiet smile, Naho extended her once disabled hand and shot her own thumb up, placing her other hand on her hip, tenderly, and posing as well as she could.

That _definitely_ bruised.

"Aa. Tomorrow your weights come off."  
"OHO! ALRIGHT!"

He sported a bruised cheekbone.

"Sah… Gai," she began, catching the Jonin as he palmed his water bottle and guzzled a mouthful. He sent her a comical, quizzical look with his mouth full and she felt her mouth turn up.

"Let me heal that for you."

She didn't remember doing it much as a kid when they sparred, on the off occasion that she actually landed a hit hard enough to bruise or tear his skin, but she felt almost like a puzzle piece put in upside down if she left it as was. It wasn't an impressive injury by any means, but it was caused by her hand.

"This is nothing, my friend! It is a badge of honor, the product of our hard work and relentless exercise!"

She blinked, feeling uncomfortable enough under his sublime joy to avert her eyes. She cleared her throat, not really understanding badges and honor regarding injuries. She tried to fix them, liked to prevent them when she could. If someone could erase the evidence of one altogether, she glanced down numbly to her hand, then why not do so?

"Are you sure?"

A firm nod was her response. "Save your energy for tomorrow's Springtime Youth Marathon!"

She couldn't stop the goosebumps crawling up her arms at those foreboding words.

 **/~/**

She sighed loudly, exhaling a grumble when she made her way down the overgrown path of the Hosokawa compound, purposefully slow steps halting.

"Do you have hooves or something? Come on… this is a poor excuse for a shadow!"

 _Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat._

 _Pft._

It was almost as if they moved twice her speed, the way she clearly sensed their patterned movements with her miffed poise. She swiveled, ready to box the ears of whoever had been hounding her for the last two days-

"OI!"  
"Kakashi failed to mention that shouting would be involved…"

Naho pressed her lips together, twisting them and furrowing her brow as her eyes landed on her two-day tail.

It quite literally had a tail.

Her mouth opened in a silent 'O' as the figure emerged fully from the shadows, revealing its canine stature and…

"You've got to be joking."

Hatake Kakashi was not only the coolest, calmest and most collected man she had ever had the grace of meeting, but apparently had _the coolest summons as well_.

"He said you'd say something like that."

Uttering a small _Cheh_ under her breath, Naho tried to disregard the cool appearance of the dog's sunglasses, even if it was rounding 21:00 and she was jealous that they still looked hip- as Gai would say. She would only look ridiculous wearing sunglasses at this time of night.

"What can I call you, before I get into this?"

She resisted the urge to pet the personal summons, wary that she'd lose yet another finger over personal space. She tucked a loose strand of hair from her bun behind her ear, stray from her taxing spar with Master Gai, no doubt.

"That's refreshing. He did say you are polite."

Her cheek twitched. What the hell did Kakashi say to this dog? And why the hell did he have her followed to begin with?

"I'll call you Doggo if you go on _-"  
_ "The name is Akino."

She smiled tightly. "A pleasure, Akino."  
"Likewise, Swamp Woman."

Pulling a face, she silently mouthed _'Swamp?'_ for the second time to herself, confused by a personal summons from Konoha.

Nonetheless, the brunette gestured for him to continue to the compound alongside her, seeing no sense in having this conversation outside when they could have it indoors over tea.

"You smell like algae."

She flatly rolled her eyes to Akino, finding his glasses trained on her as he walked, but she did not grace that one with a response. What was with that expression, anyways? Could dogs even smile?

 **/~/**

"Would you like more tea, Akino-san?" Her eyes crinkled slightly as she cradled the teapot gently in her palm, silently appraising her four-legged guest.

"You bet. This is good stuff."

Naho mused, judging by his expression, he was soon to be her friend. If she could judge a dog's face correctly. She was in the dark here.

"It's the raspberry. Refreshing, I think." She poured more into his bowl, which looked more decorative than anything, but Naho had been hard pressed to find anything because she hadn't resided here in years. Her mum wouldn't care about dirtying fine china; Pa would, probably.

"Kakashi doesn't make this kind of stuff. I will come here more often."

Her mouth curled wryly; had she just picked up a stray?

Nodding absently, "Kakashi does not have any taste. He thinks chestnuts taste like dirt and beansprouts should be eaten first if they're on your plate when, really, they're the ones that taste earthy. Also, he thinks that when I get a bag of dango from old man Mebuuro's stall over by the Academy I should not eat it immediately, which- quite frankly- is ludicrous. You eat what you buy. _Tsk._ You are welcome for tea anytime, Akino-san."

Her nose twitched when she huffed, finishing her rant with a cool sip of tea. Her eyes had fluttered shut in indignation, a lone, black eye gazing back at her with a spark of irritation.

She heard the canine rattle the bowl on its rim. "You know him well."

She frowned at the muffled statement, "I know his deplorable eating habits. He makes a point to pick-"

Freezing, Naho suddenly felt her throat tighten uncomfortably.

"Swamp Lady?"

Oh. She'd done it again.

She'd done that a lot lately, thinking in the past. Thinking everything was the same, her place was the same. She'd been talking about Kakashi like she knew him, when these were facts from more than a decade ago. She didn't know if these little, inconsequential truths were still accurate.

Warmth used to bloom in her chest, her cheeks, when she spotted his silver hair, his trained apathetic stare, his hands on his hips in a chiding manner, his brow quirked when she surprised him with a gesture or speech and she would laugh and he would show the barest hint of a _smile-_

She remembered the tight-looking grip he'd previously held her fingers, _"…I would like to discuss this further when I return."_

She didn't know this _man._ She gave up knowing him when she induced vertigo on their escort mission, allowing him to sustain a wound so deep she seriously doubted if he'd regain full range-of-motion in his limb. She gave it up in exchange for her own sanity, survival-

A cold, damp sensation on her knee caused Naho rip her focus, her critical gaze sharpening on the dog's nose that nudged her leg. Somehow, despite knowing the ugly expression coating her face, she could not move it.

She was reminded, yet again, that she returned to a place that people insisted that she call home but, each time she looked around, it was uncomfortable and lonely.

She cleared her throat and tapped her fingers against her cup, correcting herself, "He… he made a point to pick at my eating habits. We were friends as kids. That is all."

Gently setting the cup on the ground, Naho focused her sharp gaze completely on Akino's tan fur, right between his eyes. She pointedly overlooked the glint coming from his sunglasses, as well as the face she knew she still made.

"To the matter at hand…."  
"You're a childhood friend of his? I don't remember an algae-scented human-"

Her head pounded right between her eyes.

Eye twitching, "I would be more than happy to summon my contract, Akino-san. I'm sure whoever pops in will be hungry for dog."

She wondered if dogs could sweat.

"That's not necessary."

Maybe she should read up on ninken, especially if Kakashi decided this was the norm; having her followed was just another facet of what they'd become.

"Hm. I don't know… I mean, dogs do have sharp teeth, but have you ever seen _their_ teeth? _Oof_ ," she exhaled dramatically, rolling up her black sleeve to reveal a roll of bandages. "Have _you_ ever stuck your arm in the mouth of an alligator and lived to tell the tale?"

So she didn't know if the sunglasses were necessary, and she didn't know if dogs could sweat or if the raspberry tea she gave him was okay to consume, but she _did_ know that dogs got nervous. She watched for the tick, just as she would for a human-

 _Ah, I have you now, Doggo._

He backpedaled slightly in his spot, paw stepping just so and she smirked-

"Why don't you tell me why Kakashi graced me with your presence so we can go on amicably, Akino-san?"

* * *

Shikamaru had thought that opening Asuma-Sensei's window would do him some good, seeing as the man had been stuffed in the far corners of the ICU for two months. Fresh air, hell, at this point Shikamaru would go as far as to give him a damn smoke if the bags under his eyes would recede-

"Only thirty more laps, Naho-chan!"

Blinking, Shikamaru tilted his head from the window with squinted eyes towards the morning sun as he heard Gai-Sensei's exuberant shout, followed by an elevated, yet collected cry. "Absolutely not!"

"How troublesome," he mumbled with an uncharacteristic frown, his shoulders stiff as he watched the retreating figures until they turned a sharp corner.

"Hm? Is that Gai?"

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, the shadow user turned rigidly only to find his Sensei's eyes trained on his every move.

"Aa," he grumbled, ambling back to his seated position across the bedridden man, resuming his turn on the shogi board. He didn't miss the low chuckle from Asuma-Sensei, nor the sharp _snap_ of his bishop being placed diagonally on the board.

Hm. That was strange.

"And Nahoko."

Shikamaru's eyes flicked only a second before moving his rook forward. "Aa. Hokage-sama assigned the two for reconditioning before we set out."

Silently, Shikamaru speculated that one week was hardly enough to brace yourself for a chance encounter against a powerful terrorist organization, but he was not one to defy his Kage.

Asuma, having been awake for only three days now, was adjusting as well as could be expected for a man nearly killed by a cultist craving nothing but violence and death.

…Tsunade-sama was the one to break it to him.

Yes, they had saved his life, but there was almost always a cost regarding high-stakes surgery. And Nahoko- _Kami-sama bless that beautiful, wreck of a woman-_ maneuvered beneath the Hokage's nose, developed a radical surgical plan that would have gotten her executed in War Time, and performed the damn thing herself. But even with the efforts of her, Tsunade-sama, and the ace Kumogakure Shinobi, they had not been able to salvage his Shinobi career.

They had barely managed to salvage _him._

He would have been lying to say this news wasn't devastating- it was all he had ever known, all he had ever been trained to do- but the moment Kurenai had stepped into his bleak recovery room those thoughts dissipated. Her belly just began to round, but she gave a watery smile and placed her hand upon her stomach and his heavy lids widened.

He had a family.

"Ne, Shikamaru," he began, watching the teen counter yet another move of his. His lip quirked as he made to move for his bishop yet again, switching for a pawn a moment later. "You shouldn't worry about Hosokawa. She survived in a hostile environment for a long time. She hasn't forgotten how to fight."

"How was Iwasaki General a hostile environment? Her own family funds the hospital and there were other Konoha Shinobi there. We aren't at war."

The older Shinobi frowned at this statement, fingers freezing over his knight. Eyes glazing, he recalled eating dango in a restaurant with other Shinobi of his generation. He'd flirt with Kurenai and she'd call him an idiot with a scowl and cross her arms with a red face, and Gai would antagonize Kakashi to join them but the prodigy would just walk on silently ignoring them, so obviously in pain from the death of his team. Then there was Nahoko, with her large, circular specs and subdued bright eyes right beside him, mouthing a silent _'thank you'_ and a wave to the group before smiling innocently at her companion, who would look at her, expressionless but knowingly.

"The village may not actively be at war with neighboring nations, true…"

Shikamaru hesitated, noting the gravity of his sensei's tone. He had yet to make a move on the board, either.

"But?"  
"You are always at war outside of the village walls, Shikamaru. Letting your guard down is a mistake that may very well cost you your life. Naho not only managed to make it home with hers, but preserve probably hundreds of others. I don't think that's a woman that sat idly when she wasn't healing others."

 _Snap_.

Shikamaru had moved his knight.

His sensei quirked his lips, descending quickly for the kill with his bishop.

"Ah…"  
"You should talk to her. You said she listened last time."

The Nara made a face, recalling her subversive approach to treat his sensei. If she had been more forthright, maybe he'd be more inclined to trust her- a woman that had been tasked to lie for years on end. All he could manage, though, was a muttered, "Troublesome."

His sensei coughed a laugh. "Naho is like the bishop. She can go incredibly far for the sake of people, but she is not a straightforward person. Her movements are restricted diagonally, I think."  
"You're going on about weird stuff again, Sensei. Is this about when you said who the Kings are?"

But Asuma-Sensei only smiled softly, inhaling deeply. His heart monitor lulled quietly in the background.

"She may be a good shogi opponent, you never know."

Shikamaru sighed.

* * *

He hated the sensation of gauze upon his cheek. It shifted uncomfortably against his wound and caused him to sit up slowly, placing his hands before him on the cheap inn's blanket.

"Did anyone get any leads on Itachi?" Uchiha Sasuke's questions were a trick upon the ears; he may have been phrasing it as such, but it certainly sounded like a flat statement that ordered the affirmative.

The only woman in the room spluttered, shocked, "You're in no condition to even be thinking about that!"

He almost frowned, however the lone Uchiha rarely expressed his emotions. That, and Juugo easily picked up on any expressed displeasure, something Karin and Suigetsu had made an art of.

"I heard plenty on Akatsuki as a whole… and only something real flimsy on Uchiha Itachi."  
"What?! And you're just now bringing this up?! You're a real asshole, Suigetsu."

He didn't flinch, then, as Suigetsu's head exploded into a wave of water and a droplet fell onto his cheek opposite of that annoying bandage, nor when his eye caught the first sign of Juugo's transformation. Naturally, he felt his eyes bleed red before the man could do any harm, before Karin could even shriek.  
"Shit, Juugo's freaking out again! Sasuke, do something!"

He subtly shifted on his cot. "Settle down, Juugo."

The curse mark began to fade down his neck, and Sasuke did not close his eyes until it disappeared beneath his teammate's collar. He huffed, lowering his head and clenching his hand, cursing silently at his body and how slowly it was healing. It healed quicker now that he had absorbed Orochimaru and acquired his abilities, but it was not fast enough.

He wordlessly wondered about someone the Elder Cat had mentioned _…_

 _"So you are going to find Itachi then…"_

 _The Elder Cat gazed upon him with eyes holding great sadness, but her features were steel._

 _What a strange juxtaposition, Sasuke noted._

 _"I remember what you two were like as kids. I can't believe it's come to this. To think the Uchiha Clan would be reduced to but two people, and they would end up fighting to the death."_

 _He remained silent, merely passing her payment…_

 _"I made up my mind a long time ago. But I thank you for everything you've done for me."_

 _She nodded, grasping the money and placing it in her robes. Before Sasuke could rise, however, she reached for a wooden box, holding a hand for him to pause._

 _"You've come for weapons and medicine, correct? This is the last batch… you should take it."_

 _Sasuke remained stoic as the Elder Cat reached in, grasping a small, stone medicine bowl with a matching lid. She held it out for him, but he had his reservations._

 _Sasuke was grateful for her, what she had done for the Uchiha. However, that did not stop him from activating his Sharingan to observe the medicine and its chakra network, mindful that this bowl was very dense._

 _Sasuke didn't know much about medicine, but he did know that this felt… alive. Three years around Orochimaru's experiments caused him to hold caution._

 _"Who made this? Why is it here?" Sasuke reached for the medicine once he realized the Elder Cat was still holding it and very much alive, scrutinizing the stone._

 _"She was a trusted iryō-nin. Her name is Hosokawa Nahoko. She's continued to make this paste since… the massacre."_

 _His sharp glance had whatever words she had prepared dying on her lips._

He eyed the bowl sitting innocuously beside his cot. Looking at the stone cover, he felt his mouth concave just slightly, "What did you hear, Suigetsu?"

"Ehh, that Uchiha Itachi was seen slummin' it in some black-market bar in some village just East of here. I dunno. Does your brother have any interest in uncut gemstones, diamonds and stuff?"

His eyes tightened at the influx of information but did not stray from the little bowl.

He reached for it, ignoring Karin's shrill, "Sasuke-kun?!"

"Did the bar have a name?"

Suigetsu scratched the back of his head, a sharp tooth poking his upper lip. "Nah, but the owner does. Juuya Hakkar?"

Uncapping the lid, the black-haired boy schooled his expression when the gelatin met his eyes.

Innocuous, indeed. "Hn."

In a swift motion did he scoop a dollop onto two of his fingers, ripping the gauze from his cheek and liberating himself from the confining dressing. He hid his curiosity beneath a scowl as the goop seemed to freeze his fingertips cold, but he smoothed them over his cheek anyways and leveled his breathing when it hardened over his skin instantaneously.

"Sasuke-kun!"  
"It's alright, Karin."  
"Heh. It's like a mud-mask."  
"You-!"

The cold receded, leaving him with only a wisp of chakra, reminding him of the autumn wind. He tapped a finger, hard, against the paste that had adhered to his face, listening for the crack that never came.

"Hn."  
"Idiot, move over."

Suddenly, red hair invaded his peripheral and Karin had her hands on his cheek, analyzing the hardened paste with a critical eye. The Uchiha remained silent, knowing the woman couldn't remain quiet for long. He did not have to wait long for words when it came to Team Hebi.

Adjusting her glasses, Karin coughed to give herself some space. Being this close to Sasuke-kun was _the prize._

"Whoever made this is _insane._ "  
"Hn. What do you mean?"

 _Cri-Crack!_

The minty paste abruptly began to crumble, leaving Sasuke to graze his cheek in anticipation. Where there was once a raw, blast-induced abrasion that burned like an absolute bitch, there was unblemished, silky skin. Hydrated, too.

Sasuke blinked. He had not yet healed on his own from his fight with the Akatsuki, Deidara.

"I mean that _that_ ," Karin gestured furiously to the bowl, glasses glinting, "goop is teeming with yin chakra! Whoever made that might as well have been sitting right by your side healing you. It's like they knew the exact dose of chakra you'd need, despite your injury, for you to not overdose. I don't… it's like its alive! It's creepy!"

"Hn."

Rolling his eyes, Suigetsu stood from his seat on the wall. "So there's an _iryō-nin_ out there who knows what they're doing. Big whoop. What's the plan, Sasuke?"

He had already put the lid on the bowl, securing it in his bag.

He closed his eyes with an order, considering the name the Elder Cat had given him. This one first, though.

"Juuya Hakkar."

* * *

She chewed her food thoughtfully, lazily tossing a sliced cucumber to her neighbor as she continued to read her text. Said neighbor merely lifted his head from the ground to snap his jaws around the refreshing fruit, laying it back in the sun once he swallowed the treat.

She, too, sat in the sun awaiting her afternoon spar with Gai. He was breaking out his pair of nunchaku this afternoon, and Naho wasn't quite sure if she was mentally prepared to clash with Gai's legendary combination with the Twin Fangs.

"You think I should call him Master Gai? We're already on day five, but I think he would like that."

She creased her page, having stopped reading about dog's incredible sense of smell minutes ago, catching the tan canine's ear twitch. He lazily picked up his paw to scratch his face before relaxing again. "I think he'd faint if you extended the honor."

She smiled, almost laughed, but decided to stuff another cucumber in her mouth instead.

Her wrist stung.

"Mm."

Akino was fairly relaxed, and she hadn't checked Hakkar's last message, she acknowledged with uncertainty.

This was the second one.

There was no choice but to check, consequence of her obvious shadow be damned. Rechecking for any unwanted company, Naho was forty percent confident that it was just her and the dog in Training Ground Two.

…Her specialty did not lie in sensory-type chakra detection.

She resigned herself to the inevitable- Kakashi knowing one of her secrets and likely to receive answers about more. On her left wrist, there lie trusted names thanks to Hakkar's fuinjutsu. His own burned annoyingly, and Naho pulled a face as she slowly unwrapped the bindings above his ink. Her cheek twitched in annoyance when she briefly imagined Kakashi's face in her mind, could only imagine his demand for answers this time with that flat expression. Like why did she have a criminal's name seared onto her wrist, and why could he contact her anytime he wanted?

She made the seals for boar, ram, hare, and ox in two consecutive sessions, quickly nicking her thumb on the edge of her kunai hanging on her pants.

She'd thought biting one's finger was a bit barbaric.

She dragged the small drop of blood on Hakkar's tattoo, murmuring, "Atlas: Calligraphy Communications Jutsu!"

It sounded like an exhausted exhalation of the lungs when the elegant lettering adhered from her arm to dance midair, and she squinted her eyes as she read.

 _Location unsecure._

There was a hesitance in the lettering, Naho could see it, causing her to twist her lips in a grimace.

She should not have waited.

 _Hostiles approaching. Protocol is as discussed, Child._

"The fool," she slipped, her breath hitching anxiously.

She supposed his criminal network let him know he had been targeted? Hers certainly hadn't. Regardless, she hadn't a choice but to trust the _retired_ Shinobi's judgement; he had lived a long life selling illegal substances and hadn't been killed yet. He knew when to anticipate bad… things.

As for their protocol… Naho shifted with a grimace. Once she returned home, she was directed to sit still and let him to ask for help through proper channels. The purpose was to protect Naho's reputation, namely from those who doubted that someone could not come in from the cold after ten years. It was common, to lose people to the wild. They had flimsily agreed upon it, but it churned Naho's stomach just thinking about it.

This man had done so much for her: housing her in her time of need, cooking those delicious rice-balls with care she hadn't received since her mum was alive, stitching her clothing together after a skirmish, supplying sandbag after sandbag in the ratty little dojo-house of his… Her early twenties had been spent reveling in his care, and she had absorbed every last bit of it like blood to gauze.

"Smells like trouble."

Her fingers creaked as she balled her fist, but she forced herself to take a deep breath.

"It is," she leaned back against the tree, grateful for the cloud that just shaded the sun and provided her a moment to cool her head. She couldn't help but shoot the dog a look, unable to smooth the worry from her face. "You can tell Kakashi that-"

"I told you that's not why he had me follow you, Nahoko."  
"Hmph. You would like me to believe that Hatake Kakashi would pass up the opportunity to gather information on a subject (me) that he must deal with sooner rather than later? Akino-san," she leaned forward, narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, pausing for effect, "…do you take me for an idiot?"

The dog deadpanned her. "…No."

 _Ah._

"You paused. Do you want any more cucumbers? Say goodbye to fruit infused tea. Oh look, my finger is still bleeding. Kuchiyose no Jut-"  
"I revealed myself because your true tail was going to make their move, I informed you of that when you threatened me over tea. Kakashi ordered not to leave you alone due to ROOT's agenda. But I do remember… now that you mention it-"  
"Again," she interrupted with a baleful gaze.

Akino continued, unfazed, as Naho began to rewrap her bindings. "Kakashi did mention to gather your activities and report upon his return."

"That defeats the point if your mark knows exactly what you're doing."  
"No. I will still report," seriously, the sunglasses did not help the gravity with which this dog spoke.

The sun glared off them, causing Naho to sigh as she tied off the bandage. "The point is moot. Is the tail here now?"  
"Yes."  
"So they saw my little display."

The dog just looked at her, as if the question didn't even need to be asked. She began to understand the similarity between Kakashi and these animals, and she hadn't even hung around either of them for too long.

How irritating.

"Great," she muttered, leaning against the tree again, but not before tossing the dog another slice. After all, it wasn't all his fault his master was a shady brat.

"Kakashi also didn't mention that you were so scary. I did not have the slightest clue that I'd be threatened to be fed to the mighty alligators of Swamp Furusawa."  
"What did _baka Kakashi_ say exactly?"  
"He said 'watch her fists, but rest assured she can bandage properly at least.' I'll have to update him on the degradation of your personality."

Naho's eye ticked violently. She decided that she was not a dog person. Alligators were far better companions.

 **/~/**

Sometime later in the afternoon, after Naho had time to peruse her text on what consumables were toxic to the canine species, the brunette felt the speedy arrival of her expected Master.

"My student! What maturity, to arrive so early. It goes to show, it's never too late to learn from one of your pupils~!"

Naho, crinkling her eyes, folded her book. "We're around the same age, Gai."  
"Oho! True- eh? Is that one of my Eternal Rival's ninken by your side? What brought on this blooming comraderie?"

Naho did not blink at her friend's question, keeping her face neutral as she slid her eyes to the dog.

He sat up, panting lackadaisically, innocently like some kind of domesticated tail-wagger ready for a treat.

 _Feh_.

Blue eyes trailing back to her green-clad peer, she did blink. Her head pounded.

Returning to Konoha required more brainpower than most surgeries. Her mental checklist told her that ROOT was, for certain, within the vicinity to relay any pertinent information back to Danzo, a trusted council member that she truly had not anticipated as a domestic enemy. Yet, somehow upon her return home, she had really slighted the man with her field actions, inspiring him to go as far as to seal Fujishima Daetsu in her mind.

She hadn't been able to speak a word of the corrupt Kiri-nin or of the events at Iwasaki leading to her departure, leading to the inclusion of the Yamanaka. Just what was Shimura trying to get out of her silence? Just that, or biding time perhaps?

Aware that ROOT could hear this conversation, Naho hastily spawned a reason for Akino's companionship. She did not want to explain complications of returning, or potentially risk the life of a friend- who was only performing a good deed here.

She covered quickly, "It's a challenge. Kakashi didn't think you were enough to keep me company, so he summoned one of his pups to help with the uh, ah… loneliness…"  
"WHAT! This is UNACCEPTABLE! My rival has challenged me without so much as informing me," he took one look at their setup, relaxing nicely in the sun with their snack and textbook, Naho stroking Akino's fur easily, and his eyes watered like a faucet, "and he is WINNING! Naho-chan, a thousand apologies for letting my Eternal Rival stoop to such despicable tactics! Of course, animal companionship heals the heart! What heartfelt feelings…"

Naho cast a raised brow Akino's way, but the dog shot her a furtive, dirty look.

…She hadn't gotten to that part of the book yet, if dogs could do that.

She nearly scoffed. Withholding a cucumber, she bore witness as Gai seemed to curl inwards with emotion before exploding, arms stretched out with a bellowing voice.

"Ahh-! KAKASHI! This YOUTH! You exemplify the glorious nourishment of the seed of friendship! This care, this generosity- I will NOT BE BEATEN!"

Nodding absently, Naho chomped on another slice before lidding her container. She wiped her hands on her pants, rising with a long, slow stretch. "Maa, I have all this energy all of a sudden. Let's spar!"

His eyes literally sparkled; medically, she wondered if she should be concerned. "YES, NAHO-CHAN!"

 **/~/**

She grunted when she buried her fist in his stomach, exhaling painfully as she decided to retreat with a sharp twist.

She heard a similar, if not more pained _oof_ meters away as she curled her hands to her side, wincing at the hit he landed with his Twin Fangs.

That was mean.

"V-Very nice, my blossoming student-!"

Naho, hugging her ribs, watched the Taijutsu master's knees buckle.

She felt it too, with her hair sticking to her face and aching body sporting a possible bruised or broken rib, the misery to quit. She dipped her head to suck in a breath before lifting, squinting at her friend's odd pallor.

No way…

"O-Oi Gai… you're not going to vomit, are you?"

"…!"

"H-Hey!"

Someone cleared their throat from behind, causing the brunette to jerk her head around in surprise just as Gai emptied the contents of his stomach in the bushes.

 _Gross._

And judging from his grimace, the recently-arrived Shikamaru agreed. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed audibly, "Hokage-sama requests our audience, Hosokawa."

"Haaa?"

 **/~/**

"How was I supposed to know he hated cucumbers that much?" Naho muttered petulantly, crossing her arms as she and Shikamaru deposited Konoha's Green Beast at the clinic near the Tower.

The poor sod was still nauseous after taking Naho's chakra-infused fist to the gut with the lingering scent of cucumbers coating her fingers and pants. It wasn't her fault that Gai had never mentioned they made him deathly ill…

"How troublesome…"  
"Yeah, no kidding. You're not the one who had to carry almost eighty kilos of pure muscle, either. I'm already sore from his regimen of thousands of laps this week. Plus, I believe he busted one of my ribs back there."

She caught the Nara's side-eye as they made their way side-by-side towards the Hokage Tower, unimpressed with his composed exterior.

"You haven't healed it yet?"  
She shifted uncomfortably, "It's in a tight spot. I was going to just let it alone naturally, but…"

She let her sentence hang, waiting for the tactician to latch onto her hesitance.

She blatantly stared at him, piecing her knowledge of their last encounter. This boy… judging by his rigid posture, pointed looks away from her, the frown lines, and the tightness around his eyes, did not find her company agreeable. Coupled with the fact that, recalling the only time she visited Sarutobi, his attitude was standoffish, she could cautiously deduce that the Nara did not care for her.

His eyes slid to hers.

 _Ah._

"But?"

She leveled him, cutting him off with a lone, heavy step and a stony expression.

"But it seems I'll have to ask Tsunade-sama to speed it up. She requested _our_ audience, you said?"

She knew that Hakkar sent her a message two days ago and she just got around to checking it. That meant that he had sent for assistance via proper channels _Kami_ knows how long ago. Tsunade wanted her to finish her regimen and she had not completed her mental health evaluation. She was also mid-interrogation with T &I. Naho knew, with absolute certainty, that she would not send her on a mission unless it she must. And she would only feel she must if she were short on veterans to assist with a team strike… or her Assets made contact.

Naho was not blind to the possible developments, nor the most likely one as her wrist _burned._

Shikamaru's eyes widened at the dark expression coating her face, and she struggled to reign in her menacing aura. It was not their fault. These people did not know what Hakkar meant to her. Still, there was only so much control she could exhibit.

Swallowing, the Nara managed a level, "Aa."

Naho's eyes didn't shake that hard exterior, nor did her posture slacken as she turned her back. She inhaled a deep breath. "Let us resume, then. We should not keep Hokage-sama waiting."

Shikamaru noted, as she used the _Shunshin no Jutsu_ to flicker away, her speech had been enunciated impeccably and clipped just as Kurenai-Sensei mentioned. Funny how inconsequential facts popped into his head in useless times. He sighed, mumbling incoherently as he followed the unstable lady.

Asuma-Sensei had to be out of his mind to think that she could replace him as their captain of Team 10.

He wagered that she didn't even know what a shogi board looked like.

Entering the Hokage Tower, Shikamaru stuffed his hands in his pocket. He took his time on the stairs, sensing that Hosokawa had already entered Hokage-sama's office and he could already imagine the trouble he'd hear-

"Come in, Shikamaru. I was just going to brief Team 10 on your mission."

Calculating, she stood on the far end beside Choji, waiting for Shikamaru to join the set. Her deep eyes betrayed nothing as she glanced at the boy as if she hadn't just intimidated him in the middle of the street, straying to the Yamanaka and Akamichi as the Nara ambled inside. He closed the door behind him, eying the Hosokawa distrustfully.

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

Tsunade did not mince words, her eyes grazing all four figures before resting on Naho.

"Four days ago," the only ex ANBU in the room ground her teeth at the word _four_ , "we received word that a potentially valuable asset was threatened by the Akatsuki. I'm sending this squad to suppress that threat, or retrieve the target."

She could feel discomfort radiated from her left. "A-Ah, Hokage-sama…" Quirking a brow, the masterful _iryō-nin_ focused her gaze on the pale blonde. Naho, too, turned slightly.

"Yes?"  
"What if the asset is already…"

Naho stared plainly.

Tsunade, noticing her discomfort from Naho's unrelenting focus, commandeered the Shinobi's attention. "If that is the case, Nahoko has been prepared for situations such as these." The brunette slowly turned her sharp gaze to meet hard brown eyes. "You will act accordingly as a temporary addition to Team 10, Nahoko. Shikamaru will act as Captain." She briskly tossed her a scroll, which Naho snatched nimbly. "He knows the team's strengths and weaknesses and has already been briefed on some of your strengths. With that, he has been able to create some form of formation."

"…Understood."

She nodded, "You're all dismissed. Get some rest. I want you gone before dawn."

Naho couldn't help but hear the unspoken words _this is time sensitive_ and twist her lips, remaining in her spot as the younger Shinobi bowed and made for the exit. She turned her head slightly as the Nara once again made eye contact with her, but she merely offered her neutral gaze before addressing Tsunade-sama.

"Can you spare a moment?"

The door _clicked_ shut as the teenagers filed out. "If this is about the hierarchy of the mission-"  
"It's not."

She watched elder blonde blink.

Honestly, if Naho were in her position, she'd expect a fight from her, too. Their relationship was tumultuous at best and Naho was clearly the higher caliber Shinobi in the pickings, if they were judging solely on combative ability. Naho had to trust that that was not the only factor deciding Captainship, though, and leave it be. She was back in Konoha. She had put faith in her village. She was not alone anymore.

It was not _take care of yourself out there, no one else will._

"What is it, then?"

Her face pulled, and in that moment her heart sped up and the room warmed and all she had to ask was about her ribs. Ask her to heal her ribs.

 _Come on._

It was a simple request, asking her to balm her likely bruised rib and wrap it for the mission, but the thought of Tsunade's hands _glowing an ethereal blue, creating a fist and shattering her maxillary wall…_

She visibly recoiled. One graze with that potent chakra was all it had taken.

"Ahh… nothing. I wanted to ask about Sarutobi Asuma's recovery, is all."

Tsunade frowned down at her desk, almost glaring at her paperwork before directing a curious eye at her former student. "I heard that you hadn't visited yet. He's awake and responsive, Naho, but I don't think that's what you should be worrying about right now."

The brunette nodded dazedly, bowed a perfect ninety-degree angle with a wince, and rose with grace. "Absolutely, Hokage-sama. I'll be on my way."

Tsunade's eyes followed her back as she rounded on the door, frowning when she placed a hand on her side on her way out, expression pinched. Had ROOT gotten to her?

No…

"Naho."  
"Yes," her voice echoed without an inflection, her hand on the door but her body turning to attention.

Naho had always been harder to deal with than Shizune, and later, Sakura. Her questions didn't sound like questions at all, something that irritated Tsunade immensely in their former years together. Her flat expression and expectant eyes- she expected greatness from her deceased mother's comrade and Tsunade hadn't been able to deliver, scarred and shattered as she had been. Naho didn't miss the slightest detail, had even the gall to correct a diagnosis here or there, and she was eager and ready and Tsunade doubted her so very harshly.

Maybe that's why she had failed the kid- she never thought too hard on it until Nahoko's return because, really, why beat a dead horse?

 _Or a defenseless child?_

Clearing her throat with a hardened eye and stern set to her brow at that rampant, toxic thought, Tsunade nodded her off.

"Look after them."

The Yamanaka didn't have an answer for Naho's damaged chakra coils yet, and it required more time and study with Inoichi to reach a definitive diagnosis and timeline. She ignored the nauseous roll her stomach gave when Naho nodded before slipping out, disregarding that poisonous whisper in her head that maliciously reminded her that she was letting an ill kunoichi face a combative threat.

In that moment, she made a fine Kage. She thought, however, that did not justify her poor moment as a medic.

 **/~/**

She slid the back door of her home closed, rolling her stiff neck as she exhaled softly. Akino had wanted to remain outside near the hydrangeas, so it was only her quiet footsteps padding along in the dark as she had forgotten to leave a light lit for her late return. Granted, she had only thought she'd be arriving from a spar and it'd still be dusk, not dark from an impromptu meeting and mission assignment from the Hokage.

Flicking the standing lamp in the corner, Naho hummed and hovered a hand over her rib, setting her mind to find some bindings-

"…!"

There, lounging against the furthest wall and therefore the darkest corner of large sitting room, was a spiky mess of white hair and red markings that she started at. She caught a vague movement, "Maa, I didn't mean to frighten you, Naho-chan. The place was open."

She'd heard that laid back tone a handful of times in the last few years to identify the owner. Her eyes adjusted, so much that she caught his hands lowering from his surrendered peace-pose, but she merely turned her back with a muttered, "Open does not mean welcome… rude, senile man…"

She opened a panel from the wall and grasped for her medical supplies that she'd packed away, ignoring his indignant sputtering over her own musings.

"W-What?! Take that back! And to think, I came to see how you're fairing! Ungrateful…"

Naho didn't even spare the dramatics a glance, understanding that Jiraiya-sama's persona was exactly that. He could be quite serious, in fact she'd seen it when she'd offered him second-hand information regarding the third Sannin in their past interactions, but he had a steadfast grip on this goofy, childish mask that he'd insisted on bearing to the world. She did not care to waste energy on humoring it tonight, not after this day.

She continued to search her medkit for the supplies she needed, rifling through the band aids and gauze for the more durable stuff.

"Why would you do that, Jiraiya-sama?"

As for the Toad Sage, he blinked before he looked around at the sparse furnishings of this once warm home. There was nothing save for an old tea table, some neat blanketing, the lit lamp and some candles… truly, this was the home of Uzumaki Shoken? His eyes slid over to Nahoko's back, which lessened in movement. Her chakra seemed… strange.

"Well, Konoha and the Land of Fire has you to thank for its quite extensive spy network. And me, of course."

She hummed. "Of course. But you could have asked me while in town, instead of trespassing on clan grounds."

The Sannin did not sputter again, for which she could have applauded him. She found the bindings she'd been looking for, so she settled from her haunches but kept her back to him. She kept her ears open to his grouching.

"Trespassing? _Feh._ I knew this room before you were born, kid. Your mom would curse at the lack of décor you keep. And the dust! You let it go to ruin."

Her fingers paused in the act of fiddling with the plastic wrap encasing the sterile cloth, giving her a good glimpse of her prosthetic fingers and their scarred attachment site. She thought about before she'd received the prosthetics and how utterly…

She thought about her year at the Hosokawa compound and a real, genuine tremor shook her shoulders.

"I think, Jiraiya-sama, that my mum would curse about how a lot of things turned out."

She didn't wait for his response; she didn't care to hear his flimsy, could-have/should-have excuses.

"What are you doing here." Her voice may have been a bit harder as she settled fully into a sit, and she finally glanced at him with pursed lips. She caught his half smile, though it wasn't genuine. She vaguely wondered if anything about him was.

"I came to ask for a summons."  
"Why do you want my summons when you have capable toads," she asked flatly, busying her hands with her breast wraps before she shirked her shirt.

"Because I need a gas expert, and I know the gators have combined their efforts with yours in the art of subtlety. Plus…" He waggled his brows. "It's a bit wet and dangerous where I'm going. I need a backup plan."  
"No. Go away," she deadpanned, shirking her shirt and turning her back to reveal a bruised torso from a damaged rib.

Cracked, then.

"…"

She heard footsteps as she struggled to wrap the bandages tightly, flinching when she grazed the affected area with a cool, mint green palm. She'd hoped to conserve her chakra for the early morning departure, but she'd have to settle for this treatment. She groaned quietly in the back of her throat when the Toad Sage circled around to face her, an uncharacteristically grave expression coating his features in the face of a topless woman.

"You didn't have Tsuna fix this for you?"

Curiosity seemed genuine enough, she supposed.

She closed her eyes as she mended and counted backwards from one hundred by seven. It was classic concussion or traumatic brain injury protocol, but it also worked to focus Naho elsewhere when her nerves fried.

Trust this nosy spy to know she'd just came from Hokage Tower.

"No."

Her mathematics, however, did nothing to help her curt tone.

Jiraiya chewed his lip, frowning. "You should tell her, Nahoko."

Ah, finally he dropped the cutesy honorific. It was very fraying, his insincere address.

"What do you know, Old Man. Coming in this house, acting like you have the right after what you did to this family."

Her voice remained level, only hinted slightly at resignation at past deeds long before she'd been born. She'd just been trying to prod at him to leave her be, but when she felt a creak on the wooden flooring, Naho opened her eyes.

The Toad Sage plopped down with a hunched posture, legs crossed, hands on his knees and head bent forward. She winced as she pulled her hand away from her tender torso, shivering as her chakra abated from her skin and tingled. Reaching for her shirt, she decided to just leave the man alone to whatever he was up to this time-

"I confess… I never thought I'd find myself here, beseeching forgiveness from Shoken's child," his head still bent, Jiraiya did not see Naho's cheek twitch at his words, nor did he see the confusion in her eyes as she shimmed into her shirt.

What the hell was this senile old man going on about? She'd just wanted him to leave.

He continued gravely, "But my previous passions laid waste to an eventual, beautiful family and I can never forgive myself for the spiral that caused your father to descend into and eventually…"

Naho considered the year following the loss of her fingers the worst of her life.

Nearly forced into retirement at seventeen, she lost her natural abilities, her familiar home, her willing friends, and relocated to a very harsh, unrelenting environment known as the main Hosokawa Compound.

The Hosokawa were not known for their warmth and overall sense of ease, but their limitless resources stemming from medicinal advances, political wealth and subtle approach to the market. They were a demanding family to be born to, to be held to such a standard… and to repeatedly report to such a family for so long, it certainly could take a toll on an individual, she had time to consider.

The Hosokawa also gossiped.

She was not full-fledged; she did not demand and take and command loudly with arrogance like many of her so-called family members. She was a noticeable contrast to their loud features with her quiet, affirming logic. She did not know if it started as a means of initiation, or if her cousins were just picking on her, but when she heard the purposefully loud whispers of _'suicide'_ and _'disgrace'_ she could ignore them.

Initially.

Over the course of a month, however, the words flowed from her younger cousins to aunties and uncles, respected clan members and Nahoko realized that initiation with these people had never been a thought in their fleeting, tiny minds.

She could only train hard with her mauled hand.

She'd imagined she'd beaten one Hosokawa to death with her maimed extremity for even uttering her Pa's name.

Her gazed refocused on the present when she noticed Jiraiya's hand was still clenched tightly on the wooden paneling of her floor.

She knew, even if she did not particularly care for this one man, that she could not allow for this to continue.

For him to believe that he had been the cause…

"Pa was severely depressed. Almost clinically so."

Jiraiya blinked.

Naho's tongue felt heavy in her mouth, but she pushed forward. She concentrated on the red paint by his eyes. It was unique, nearly beautifully so, and it gave Naho's eyes something to focus upon instead of the budding questioning in the Sannin's eye.

"I've had a lot of time to think back about my family before… and after. With an older perspective and clinical eye, it became clearer. I don't know if that lead to Oka-san straying or… I don't know. But you shouldn't have to carry that around, at least. Pa died because Oka-san's death was too much to bear. Your affair was not the sole fuel to the fire. His grief ultimately killed him, Jiraiya-sama. As Shinobi, we tend to shy away from the mind's ails and forget that illnesses arise within as well. He was not so much dishonored as he was ill."

She patiently observed him lift his head and stare for a moment before he smiled so heartbreakingly, so self-deprecatingly that Naho had to avert her eyes.

"You are still kind, when you should have taken the opportunity to let me fall on my sword, Naho-chan."  
"Don't worry. I still find fault. If you hadn't…"

Her eyes glazed, voice shaking as she halted.

Maybe she couldn't talk about this part, because if she thought too hard she could feel a great deal of resentment and rage and utter disappointment bubble to the surface at the mere mentioning of this part.

The part where, if he hadn't had the affair with her mum, maybe Pa wouldn't have felt disgraced by his tyrannical clan. Maybe, from the cold whispers and cruel cackles of the Hosokawa rumor mill, he wouldn't have felt compelled to do absolutely anything necessary to fall into their good graces for his daughter's sake. Maybe he wouldn't have offered his daughter on a perfectly set board to the clan as a form of appeasement, maybe she wouldn't have been fussed over and tufted as a potential bride, and an eventual match to a powerful clan to solidify just the alliance the Hosokawa needed to seed their roots in Konoha for good.

Maybe, if Jiraiya hadn't had the affair with Oka-san, she wouldn't had been roped into an arranged marriage.

Maybe she wouldn't have had to make the scared, lonely decision to disfigure herself to fend off potential suitors and collapse her arrangement.

Maybe… Kakashi and her-

She visibly struggled, balling her fists and shifting her shoulders.

"I can't talk about this. I can't talk about this with you."  
"You should talk to someone," he said softly with beseeching eyes, so much that she wondered what her expression looked like.

She wondered that, upon coming home, how unraveled she became at the slightest provocation when in the field she kept it together fine. For years, she calmly worked without this fraying, this wearing into her bones. She'd get tired from surgery and the secrecy, of course, but she did not feel this bone-deep exhaustion of this supposed _home_.

She considered telling him what she really thought about that.

 _There is no one. T_ _here is no one left that wants to hear this._

Instead she nodded, humoring the Sage in this moment that felt oddly intimate. He nodded to himself, but she opened her mouth before he could utter another word to add to her discomfort.

Honestly.

Turning the conversation to the original subject, Naho quietly cleared her throat. "The summons- I can't promise whoever responds will oblige. They're known for their loafing and irritability if you're foreign, you know. But here you are."

She nicked her finger once again on her stray kunai, wiping it on a procured scroll from her pack before making a series of simple seals and rolling it neatly for the Sage. Because Jiraiya did not have a contract with the Furusawa alligators, he could activate this scroll containing her blood within the time limit she set (seventy-two hours) and virtually summon a random pick. She could not promise it would be a useful companion, as she could think of at least six that could show up and leave just at the sight of a non-contract summons, but she did what she could for the once-allied spymaster.

"I wish you luck with your endeavor…"

She observed a different grin split his lips this time, softer around the edges of his mouth yet still a bit feral and playful, and she wasn't altogether comfortable with it aimed at her but she accepted it anyways.

"What a soft-hearted kid you turned out to be, Naho-chan."  
"Just return them in one piece, please."

She cattily ignored his cheeky salute and the subsequent whine he had uttered at said deflection. And upon his chatty departure, she desperately tried to ignore the potted snapdragon he had somehow left behind, his gesture tugging deeply on strings long dormant in her chest.

* * *

There were not many days that Kakashi felt like this.

"Really, I'm a coward, Hatake. There is absolutely no need to cover my eyes anymore. I will not visit the Hidden Leaf again!"

The silver-haired nin swallowed an irritated sigh, resisting the bait from the Kumogakure _iryō-nin_. Nodding curtly at the nin stationed beside their escort, Kakashi nearly rolled his eyes when the blindfold fell and Hamase sighed loudly with relief.

"A surgeon's eyes are his most vital tool, well… I guess aside from his hands. I was getting a little panicky there!"  
"Security protocol. You understand, Hamase-san," Yamato's flat voice drifted across the campsite, causing the medic to stiffen.

A sudden breeze, originating from the former ANBU, chilled the air.

"Yes… of course…"

Kakashi turned back to the trees, stifling a smirk when he caught a glimpse of Tenzo's trademark 'Ghoul Eyes' directed at Hamase. This kid had no mettle. He couldn't help but think that, true, a surgeon's hands were their most vital tool, but Naho had certainly managed without a fully-able one for years. He also imagined that she wouldn't whine this much on a mission.

"Kakashi-Sensei… this guy's gonna blow our chance to get Sasuke before we can get rid of him!"

Kakashi sighed this time as he turned to his student. "We still have Sasuke's scent, Naruto. We're following the trail, but we need to rest for the night. Hamase-san's drop is soon."

"But Sensei-!"  
"NARUTO!"

He eye-smiled when Sakura decked him for his back-talk, soon the rest of the teenagers encouraging the blonde that the trail was still fresh.

"I'm sure Akino would agree. The trail is fresh," Pakkun's voice pitched from his left, causing him to peer at the knowing look on the ninken's face. He was silent for a beat, considering his response. He did not want to delve into that meddled territory and ponder why he left a perfectly helpful tracker in Konoha with Naho when he knew he was of better use here.

"Aa."  
"Where is Akino, anyways? I thought we were one short."  
"Unavailable for this mission," came his short response, earning a quizzical look from Yamato.

He ignored it. He also ignored the stray thought of Naho and Akino, wondering if she had discovered his personal summons yet.

"Try to get some rest, everyone. Tomorrow we push."

He'd agreed to take the first watch, with Yamato taking the second into the early hours.

Silently composing himself, the Jonin jumped into a higher position, perching himself on the branch for a better vantage. He momentarily closed his eyes and allowed a second of peace, trying to rid himself of the last image he had of Naho sitting at that outdoor table, curling in on herself.

Years ago, he had thought she didn't have what it took to be ANBU. She didn't have the skill, the drive, the darkness. She couldn't lie.

 _"I am responsible for… I caused…"_

He rolled his shoulder, recalling the severity of their failed mission with a dull pit in the bottom of his stomach. His arm recovered without any difficulties and there was only a faded scar to show for his troubles, but what Naho had lost…

He looked down at his flesh-colored fingers, considering the extent of his abilities with the Sharingan if he lacked one hand.

 _The loss…_

How… how far they had both come, it seemed.

 **/~/**

The night passed without incident. Morning, however, painted a different picture.

The Inuzuka boy led the group as his sense of smell was the strongest, pulling over Kakashi's ninken with his clan specialty. The two teams moved swiftly through the forest in formation, pursuing the static scent until the Inuzuka perked, alarmed.

Kakashi noticed immediately, but his student was placed beside him in formation and demanded before he could.

"What's wrong, Kiba?"

The wolf-like teenager grimaced, "We're in trouble! Sasuke's on the move!"

Kakashi compressed his lips beneath his mask when Naruto started. "We gotta hurry! He's probably going straight for Itachi!"

There was, only what he could describe as, a sudden vacuum of chakra on their left flank, closest to him and Sakura.

"Easy! Something's not quite right! Sasuke's scent just split up! It's going all over the place in a lot of different directions!"

He smelled the faint, pungent scent of smoke before a faint _tsk_ reached his enhanced hearing.

"That does sound unfortunate."

His voice was rough, commanding, and maybe a little bit harsh, "Stop!" Their formation came to a stand-still, immediately bunching defensively as he braced himself for a confrontation. The voice had tickled his ear, yet he hadn't detected their presence until the very last second. Scanning the area, his eye landed on the angular form of a woman, who had distanced herself with her palms up slightly before relaxing.

He could feel Naruto vibrating from here. "OI-!"

"Who are you?" Kakashi controlled the situation, stepping forward almost menacingly. He tilted his headband up to reveal the Sharingan, causing the chestnut-haired woman to sneer. The expression pulled at an unbecoming scar deep in her cheek. To accompany that, she gave a sarcastic bow, the scar on her face twisting.

"I'm your drop point to escort Hamase Rokuto back to Iwasaki General," she rose fluidly, tiny crow's feet around her eyes telling Kakashi this woman squinted far too often. "Hosokawa Vera at your service."

"Kakashi-Senpai…" The warning in Yamato's tone was not unfounded, as Kakashi's eye spotted it, too.

A Kirigakure hitai-ate glinted maliciously from her upper arm, tied securely around her artery and pinch point- she had some medical knowledge. What was more important, however, was the bold strike slashing her village's symbol, speaking volumes for the Konoha Shinobi present.

"Ahh," Hamase stuttered, making himself known the first time that morning. His suave voice was uncertain for the first time, and that would have given the silver-haired nin a visceral pleasure in any other situation, but for now it passed straight through his filter. Kakashi narrowed his eye, but it was Yamato that voiced his opinion.

"You have some nerve appearing before such a large squad of ninja all geared to take out a missing nin."

Kakashi could see the woman who called herself _Hosokawa_ eye the two teams, unimpressed.

"You seem busy. I am simply here to take him off your hands."

Something about her speech was familiar to him, the enunciation, the way she held herself. She was rigid, hands folded behind her back before she brought one up and there lie a strange, eerily familiar tattoo on her inner wrist. Her hair was even familiar- the style, the color and texture.

 _Hosokawa._

"What relation are you to Hosokawa Nahoko?"

It seemed to catch her off guard, his abrupt question. He watched her eye slice to his position in a heartbeat, her mouth compress tightly and her foot move forward yet defensively.

 _Hm._

That was a reaction.

"I am her elder _cousin!_ "

Kakashi knew two things at this point.

1\. Sasuke's scent was dispersing fast and 2. Hamase Rokuto could heal if injured.

They needed to move. Exhaling deeply, the ex ANBU captain closed his eyes briefly, knowing the calculated risk he considered.

 _We will not know unless we face the trauma, Kakashi_.

He knew that he cared about this mission outcome as much as he wanted to trust his instincts regarding this Hosokawa rogue- how her mannerisms resembled Naho's in the three minutes of observance that he had been allotted. _She_ had amassed a network of people out there; who was to say how many were in her collection? Did he believe in Naho's ten years of hard work in this very moment? Was this one of her people?

Did he believe in her?

"Let him go."

His eye didn't leave the woman's, which had discarded him in favor for the Kumo medic.

"Kakashi-Sensei?"  
"We have another objective. We're losing time. Hamase-san will be fine," his eye then slid to the medic's, which conveyed all sorts of nerves, "I'm sure Naho secured something."

Yamato blinked, releasing the Kumo nin from his custody to gaze at his former captain.

His brow was pulled when the rogue retrieved the medic, nodding sharply at the group before saluting lightly. "For now, Konoha." She hooked her elbow onto the medic's, grimacing, and abruptly created nine seals-

"They're gone!" She had all but dissipated in a patch of black smoke.

Kakashi did not want to stick around to think about the repercussions of his decision to hand over a foreign Shinobi to a rogue nin.

"Let's move. Sasuke's group must've noticed us and came up with a plan to fool our senses."

Sakura, who had picked up formation as soon as Kakashi started running, gasped. "How could they possibly have-?"

"I have no idea. My guess would be they have an extremely talented chakra-sensing type Shinobi on their side."

He heard their voices, but a rebellious thought struck Kakashi that Naho as a teenager was an abysmal sensor.

Had he just remembered that?

He blinked as Naruto's _Mass Shadow Clone Jutsu_ flooded the forest in front, listening as his student declared his intention to look everywhere at once. His mouth nearly twitched into a smirk with pride. _That's it, Naruto._

They'd push onward, as he'd already remembered where he'd seen that tattoo on the rogue's wrist before. It had been against crisp white sheets as he held the return of a ghost's hand as she recovered from a carotid stroke, listening to the uncomfortable lull of her heart monitor and smelling pomegranates against the sting of the sterile hospital room.

That tattoo lie on Naho's wrist as well.


End file.
